The Night of the Blue Dragon
by Andamogirl
Summary: story inspired by Artemus Gordon's blue dragon tattoo. Wingfic with medieval fantasy including dragons, magic, a mage and a sorceress, animal transformations, a knight, etc.
1. Teaser

**THE NIGHT OF THE BLUE DRAGON**

**By Andamogirl**

Author's note: story inspired by Artemus Gordon's blue dragon tattoo. Wingfic with medieval fantasy including dragons, magic, a mage and a sorceress, animal transformations, a knight, etc.

References to my stories called "The Night of the Comanche Moon" and to "The Night of the Dreadful Mistake" & to "The Night of the Monstrous Storm" and "The Night of the Trek Among the Stars" & to "The Night of the Ice Cold Death" and references to the following WWW episodes, "The Night of the Cadre", "The Night of the Lord of Limbo", "The Night of the Juggernaut".

Post series.

_Hammond: Well, I hardly think murder is an accurate description of what happened to Lt. Bartlett._

_Artie: What do you mean by that, sir?_

_Hammond: I mean a kraken. A fantastic monster that lives in perpetual darkness, miles below the ocean's surface. In constant cold under tremendous pressure. As strange and alien creature as you'd properly expect to find on the dark side of the planet Uranus._

The Night of the Kraken

_Richmond: What are you going to do about it?_

_Artie: I don't know. I think I may even learn to grow fond if it after a while._

_Richmond: What? I'm not talking about your blasted tattoo! I'm talking about Jim!_

The Night of the Turncoat

Warning: blood and disturbing images

WWW

**TEASER**

_Mid-August 1878_

Rutherford Birchard Hayes entered his office in the White House and glanced at the gray-haired man dressed in an impeccable dark suit waiting for him. "Good morning, Colonel," he said before taking his place behind his large desk.

Colonel Richmond gave a quick nod. "Good morning, Mr. President."

Hayes opened the dossier sitting in front of him and rapidly read the first page – it was a report of the yellow fever outbreak that was decimating the population of the Lower Mississippi Valley. Tens of thousands fled the stricken cities of New Orleans, Vicksburg, and Memphis.

He took another page into the folder and read it too. It was a letter from a certain Dr. Miguelito Loveless who claimed he could heal the people affected by the epidemic with a serum of his invention – in exchange for ten million dollars in gold bars.

Harrumphing, the President looked up at the man standing to the side of the big Louis XV style table and asked him, "I never heard about Dr. Loveless. What do you know about him?"

Colonel Richmond, head of the US Secret Service smiled. "A great deal, Sir. I put the very thick file I have on him in the dossier, Mr. President."

President Hayes nodded but didn't take it. "Do you think he has that serum, or is he bluffing?"

Richmond sighed. "Dr. Loveless is a scientific genius, Sir, and one of the most wanted criminals of the US, and I think he has that serum and used it on himself, because he wouldn't stay in Vicksburg otherwise. Do you intend to give him the gold bars Sir?"

Hayes shook his head. "No. I don't. I never give in to blackmail Colonel. I want you to find Dr. Loveless and get your hands on that serum, and bring them both to Washington. I will ask Dr. Loveless to reproduce his serum so that we can heal everyone - in exchange for his life. He will remain in prison until the end of his life instead of being hanged. Send your best agents on this mission."

Richmond looked embarrassed. "My two best agents retired last year, Sir. But I have very good agents who can work on this assignment."

Hayes nodded and pointed at two names in Loveless's letter. "I hope so. Dr. Loveless wants James West and Artemus Gordon to bring the gold bars to him in person in Vicksburg. Who are they?"

Colonel Richmond replied proudly, "Those are the two agents I told you about earlier, Sir. They were the best special agents of the Secret Service, Sir. They know Loveless very well, they have fought him for years under President Grant's two tenures and managed to make his evil plans fail each time. They put him in jail a few times but he escaped each time."

Hayes nodded. "I see."

Richmond continued, "They are living legends in the US Secret Service, Sir. The mere mention of their names still makes the worst criminals in the country tremble with fear. I'm not surprised Dr. Loveless wants to see Jim and Artemus, because he still wants to kill them both. He has for years! He tried many times, did his best to, but he never succeeded, obviously As Loveless is a very intelligent man, he knows that you won't give him the ten million dollars – and he doesn't need them as he's very rich, he's a billionaire. The serum is bait to bring West and Gordon to him, Sir. All he wants is them."

President Hayes rubbed his chin pensively. "And I want this man, and his serum and I want these two men on this mission too. They're the best for the mission."

Richmond was embarrassed again. "They retired Sir. Jim West lives in Mexico, in a small town called Tecate, he has a ranch and breeds and raises horses. He has a fiancée named Carmelita and two toddlers named Jesus and Rufina. As for Artemus Gordon he lives on the Comanche reservation, enjoying a simple and peaceful life among his Indians friends."

President Hayes was very surprised. "He lives on the Comanche reservation? Really?"

Richmond replied, "Yes Sir, he's been there for a year now."

President Hayes frowned in puzzlement and asked, "I thought it was forbidden for whites to go to Indian reservations?"

James Richmond nodded. "You're right Sir. No white people are allowed there. But Artemus Gordon has the right to go to the Comanche reservation and live there as he is an adoptive Comanche warrior, and he speaks Comanche fluently too. He even has a Comanche tattoo on his back. For those Indians he's one of them, Sir. His Indian name is Strong Bear. President Grant has officially acknowledged these facts. He's also a Cheyenne and a Crow warrior."

Impressed and admiring Hayes nodded, "This man is exceptional!"

The head of the Secret Service nodded. "Yes Mr. President, he is. I'm going to put Bergson and Hemmett on the case, Sir. They're excellent agents. And they know Vicksburg. They were stationed in the garrison there after the war."

President Hayes shook his head. "No, don't do that. I want West and Gordon on this mission, Colonel, and that's an order. I'm sure they will accept this assignment to save thousands of people from yellow fever and as a bonus, they will stop Dr. Loveless once and for all. Bring them here as soon as possible. I want to meet them; not to convince them to accept this mission, because I know that you will do that, but to meet these remarkable men to get to know them." He paused and added. "Goodbye, Colonel."

Richmond nodded. "Yes Sir. Goodbye Sir."

Once in the corridor, Richmond was joined by his second in command, Major Barrett who was waiting to take his orders. "Major, I have a mission for you," he said.

Richard Barrett smiled enthusiastically. "For me?" He loved field missions, much more than sitting behind a desk, he reflected. "Yes Sir. Is it a difficult one, Sir?"

Richmond nodded. "Yes, a very difficult one, Richard. I'm going to send Hopkins of the Phoenix Bureau to talk to James West, as for you, I'm sending you to the Comanche reservation, to see Artemus Gordon. You will transmit him a message from me, and you'll have to be very persuasive."

Barrett paled and felt his throat go dry. "The Comanche reservation Colonel?" He had heard that the most ferocious of all Indian warriors staked out male captives spread-eagled and naked over red-ant beds. After being attacked en masse; bitten by thousands of insects injecting their venom and experiencing intense burning and swelling, they died in horrible suffering. He gulped. "Yes, Sir."

Richmond smiled. "Calm down, they are not going to scalp you alive, Barrett. They are now peaceful and live on livestock and a little agriculture."

Barrett sighed in relief.

WWW

_Comanche Reservation, three days later_

Silver Cloud entered Strong Bear's tepee and stopped next to the opening. Arms crossed on his chest, smiling, he watched 'the white Comanche' sitting cross-legged in front of the band's children, using all his talent as a storyteller to tell them the story about Big Man eater Owl (Pia Mupitsi), who lived in a cave on the south side of the Wichita Mountains and ate bad children at night.

Boys and girls gathered next to the fire, sitting on a nest of blankets were both scared and fascinated and all mesmerized by Strong Bear's voice.

Pausing in the middle of his story, Artemus looked up at his best friend and asked, "What is it?" Then he frowned in worry. "Something wrong?"

Silver Cloud shook his head, his earrings made with silver disks (obtained from the traders) moving from one side to the other and clanking. "There's a man waiting outside, Major Barrett from the Secret Service. He wants to talk to you. He told me it's important. Colonel Richmond sent him here."

Standing, amidst a chorus of "no, stay!" and pouts, Artemus said to his young and captivated 'audience', "I'm coming back, I won't be long."

Suddenly a little girl grabbed Artie's leg in an attempt to stop him. "Don't leave! I want to hear the rest of the story", she begged, stamping her foot in frustration.

Strong Bear smiled fondly, pulled the four year old up into his arms and then pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead. "I won't be long, Yellow Deer," he said.

He lowered the little girl to the ground and then followed the Comanche war chief outside the tepee sheathed with a covering made of buffalo hides sewn together.

Richard Barrett – framed between two menacing warriors holding spears, the tip pointing towards his neck – was pale and nervous, Artemus noticed, and he saw that the other man's hand was hovering over his holster, twitching. His jaw set tight.

He smiled to ease the tension and said, "Don't worry, Major, they're not going to kill you – unless of course you have the bad idea of taking your gun out from your holster. They would consider themselves being attacked and you would be dead before you could pull the trigger."

Eyes wide with awe, the Major glanced at the tall, slim and muscular man standing in front of him – who had just left from a tepee which was painted in blue at its top, had blue stripes in its middle and blue zigzags at its base - and talked to him with a warm and rich voice, in a perfect English. The other man looked like more like a Comanche than a white man, he thought.

The ex-special agent of the Secret Service had painted his face black with two red stripes on the forehead and chin. He wore a leather belt with a breechcloth leaving the legs bare and buckskin moccasins with buffalo soles. He had two mid-long braids tied with leather thongs covered with beads and a scalp lock at the back wrapped with strips of blue cloth. They were levelling his dark-tanned bare chest. A long earing was hanging from his right earlobe made from pieces of shell and had a slender braid on top of his head, decorated with colored beads, and a single eagle feather. His bare chest was covered with a hair pipe breastplates and he had bands of fringed leather and strips of metal on his arms and a knife at his right side, in a beaded sheath.

Barrett cleared his throat and to be sure of the older man's identity, he asked him, "Are you Mr. Artemus Gordon?"

Artemus Gordon nodded. "Yes, it's me. Maruawe, it means greetings. You're the first person to call me like that for a year, Major." He asked the two warriors threatening Barrett with their spears to leave, in Comanche language and then, crossing his arms on his bare chest, chin raised in determination, he said. "I know why you're here and let me tell you this, you're wasting your time. I'm not going to go with you to Washington to see the President. He wants to give me a special assignment, right? That's a no. I retired."

But the Secret Service officer 'pulled out an ace out of his sleeve' and said, "James West accepted to do this assignment yesterday, Mr. Gordon, and he's now enroute to Washington."

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Artie said, "You're bluffing, Major. Jim would never want to go back to the Secret Service even for a very important single mission, even for the President. He swore that to me. Like me he retired. Period. You're telling me this to force me to accept because you know I wouldn't let Jim do any assignment alone as we're a team, were a team. In fact, it's not your idea, it's Richmond's idea, am I right? And if I say, 'Okay I'm in', you will tell Jim I accepted this mission and he'd accept to because he wouldn't let me do this alone either. We always protect – well protected each other."

Richard Barrett pulled out a piece of paper from the inner pocket of his jacket and held it out. "Mr. West knew you would say that, so after he accepted the assignment he transmitted a message to Colonel Richmond and the Colonel gave it to me before I left Washington so I could give it to you. Here it is." And he watched the older man take it.

Brow furrowed, Artemus read the message aloud, "Saddle up Artie, we're needed. In case you doubt this message is from me, I'm giving you proof. For our last Christmas before we each went our separate ways, I offered you short black underwear with golden embroidered sitting and walking cats on it. I'll wait for you on board the Wanderer. See you soon. Jim." He nodded. "It's from Jim alright."

Barrett added another point, "You wouldn't let your best friend deal with your old arch-Nemesis alone, right, Mr. Gordon? He'll need you."

His curiosity piqued, Artie asked, "Our old arch-Nemesis? Are you talking about Dr. Miguelito Loveless?"

The Major nodded. "Yes, Mr. Gordon. Dr. Loveless wants 10 million dollars in gold bars against a serum he made to heal the yellow fever plaguing the Lower Mississippi Valley. People are dying by the hundreds there. He wants you and Mr. West to bring the gold to him in Vicksburg – which is under quarantine because of yellow fever causing ravages there. The President will give you a mission order so that you can enter the epidemic zone, without being arrested and detained by the army."

Uncrossing his arms, Artie huffed and said. "It's Loveless's usual scheme. It's a trap to kill Jim and me. The bait is the serum."

Richard Barrett continued, "The President wants Dr. Loveless arrested and in exchange for his life, he'll have to make enough serum to heal everyone affected by yellow fever."

Shaking his head, Artemus said, "No one has managed to keep Loveless behind bars – he always escaped and that hasn't changed."

Barrett shook his head. "Nothing lasts forever. You'll succeed."

Furrowing his brow again and crossing his arms over his chest, Artie said, "I didn't say I would participate in this mission Major."

Major Barrett nodded. "I know, but people are dying from yellow fever, as we speak, Mr. Gordon. You and Mr. West are the only ones who can stop Dr. Loveless – you did it before - and by doing it saved hundreds of men, women and children. Please, come with me to Washington."

Silver Cloud shook his head. "Strong Bear doesn't want anything to do with white men affairs anymore," he said to the USSS officer. He placed his hand on Artemus's broad shoulder then added. "Strong Bear's place is here, with his band."

Richard Barrett looked falsely very disappointed. "Let's hope James West will be able to accomplish this mission alone, without his partner." He moved toward his horse and put his left foot in the stirrup. "This time he won't have you at his side to protect him."

Raising his chin proudly, Artie replied, "I never – ever – abandoned my partner. And it's not going to happen now!" He looked at Silver Cloud and added, "I have to go with Major Barrett. Jim's a magnet for trouble. He'll need me at his side. I'll be back as soon as the mission is over. And I'll be careful."

Silver Cloud nodded and pressed Artemus's shoulder. "I will wait for you, Strong Bear. The Big Father will watch over you and protect you."

Barrett smiled in pleasure and pride. Mission accomplished, he thought.

Strong Bear looked up at the USSS officer who had just mounted his quarter horse and said, "Wait for me, Major. I have a few things to do before we leave." Then he headed back toward his tepee, he had a story to finish. Then he'd pack a few things to go to Washington, he thought.

WWW

_A week later, in Washington_

_Inside the Wanderer_

_In the morning_

Looking around him, smiling broadly, James West noticed with pleasure that the parlor car of the Wanderer was intact and he started to muse. The decommissioned Wanderer had been immobilized on a side track of the Washington rail station for a year now and, fortunately no one had thought about dismantling her. The train had been simply abandoned there. He loved the train which had witnessed so many adventures and served as their home for Artie and him for many years. He had asked the President to be able to use the Wanderer to go to Vicksburg and back and Hayes had accepted. Doing a mission without the wanderer was inconceivable. She had been entirely refurbished, the galley had been restocked, the bed linen changed and the bathroom and toilets cleaned from top to bottom. Hay and oats had been stored in the stable for the horses and he had picked up the keys of the cell placed there.

He ended his musing saying, "I hope Loveless will be locked inside it soon."

He glanced at the door expecting to see Artemus come inside any time now. Richmond who had accompanied him here a few minutes before had told him he was on his way to there after being received at the White House by the President, he remembered.

He was grinning now, so very happy and excited to see his best friend and ex-partner. It had been a year since they had seen each other! He hadn't heard from Artemus since his departure for the Comanche reservation. He had written several letters to him, but Artemus had not answered any of them. The Indian agent might have never received them or lost them – or more simply, Artie had received them but did not wish to answer his letters, wanting to cut the ties with his past to devote himself to his new life, far from white men and the tumult of 'civilization', he mused.

Jim ran two fingers over the green tablecloth, thinking about all the things Artie and he had done on it – eating excepted – and he smiled as he remembered a particular scene, Artie sitting there in front of his chemical kit improving a knockout gas, making it colorless and odorless. The train had slowed down to take on water, and the chemicals had been spilled, knocking Artie out, and he had covered him with a blanket. He even remembered what he had said then, "Congratulations Artie, done!"

He heard a noise and turned around – someone was climbing the metallic steps leading to the rear platform and he watched Artemus Gordon suddenly appear in the doorway. He was surprised to see that the older man was still dressed as a Comanche warrior.

He observed the other man from head to toe. Artemus was wearing a loose-fitting buckskin shirt adorned with patterns and shapes formed with beads, fringed leggings tied onto the same belt that held the breechcloth with thongs attached at the hip and moccasins. He wore his hair in two long braids tied with colored cloth level to his chest. His scalp lock, was decorated with pieces of colored cloth and beads, and a single eagle feather. He had loops of brass hanging from his pierced right ear.

His clothes were rumpled, dirty, his hair was mussed and his almost gaunt cheeks were covered with caked-dirt and several days of stubble.

A small smile tugged at Jim's lips. "What? No body paint? I thought Comanche Indians were fond of painting their bodies and were free to paint themselves however they pleased?"

Artemus chuckled in response and then replied, "Heavy rain on the way to here made the paint vanish. Sadly it's not waterproof."

Looking falsely disappointed Jim said in a playful tone, "You could have invented one, Artie. You had one year to do that. I'm sooo disappointed in you." Then he grinned. "Hello Artie! It's good to see you!" and Artemus grinned back. "You went to the White House dressed in Comanche garb? Really?"

Doing a quick survey of his clothes, Artie nodded. "Yes because I don't have any other clothes and had no time to buy ones," he said. Then looking at Jim he added, "The President was very surprised to see me like this, and that's an understatement. Richmond was at my side, otherwise the Secret Service wouldn't have let me even put a foot over the White House perimeter." He took a step inside the parlor car and then he said, "Hello Jim! It's good to see you too."

Still grinning the two men enveloped each other in a bear hug, then Jim parted first from the other man and looked at him from head to toe. "You lost weight…"

Artie nodded. "I know. Government rations are not enough to feed my band – and bands in general in the reservations. We must ration ourselves. The big game is killed by encroaching gold miners so they can eat and because they want to starve us, to kill us. I talked about that to the President and I have his promise he will see to all this personally and will make decisions quickly. Comanche manage to survive with additional food, hunting small game like rabbits and gathered nuts, berries, and wild potatoes…"

Frowning, furious, Jim said, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Artie nodded. "Sometimes we kill some elks or deer in the mountains. I'm a pretty good hunter and I rode horses like a true Comanche!" he said. "I will head back to the Comanche reservation as soon as this mission is complete to help my band… But for now I need other clothes to be able to mingle with whites… with people. I sent all my belongings to my mother's home one year ago, my cats included, I couldn't keep Marmalade and Aztec with me as Comanche Indians have lots of dogs – they would have killed them. Speaking of cats, how's AG?"

Jim smiled. "He's fine and hunting mice all over the ranch. He's very happy," he responded.

Artie nodded. "I'm glad to hear that. All I possess now is my tepee, what's inside, everyday objects and three bows, two quivers full of arrows, a pair of knives, a tomahawk, and a rifle and bullets. Mo and other horses and Comanche clothes."

He looked around him and finally realized that the parlor car looked exactly like it had when he had left it a year earlier.

He smiled broadly. "This is perfect… the Wanderer has been cleaned, refurbished and restocked… We're ready to leave!"

Frowning, Jim said, "Not yet. You need other clothes Artie. People are not fond of 'Indians. You could have some problems and end up dead in the middle of the street."

Lowering his buckskin travel bag where his personal belongings were kept to the couch, Artie said, "Ura, I mean thank you. Buy me a hat, a gun belt and a gun and boots too in addition to the clothes? I will reimburse you, later, I promise."

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Jim asked, "With what Artie? Comanche Indians have no money. What are you going to give me in exchange?"

Artie nodded. "I will give you two of my paint horses in exchange, one male one female. I broke them to saddle myself. Comanche horses are the best, Jim. Comanche are one of few Indians to know how to breed horses."

Pleased by the offer, as he could add the horse to his herd, at his ranch, Jim reached out. "I accept your offer," and he shook Artemus's hand.

Smiling, Artie said, "You know what my tastes are, right? Oh, and buy some toiletries too."

WWW

_Later, en route to Vicksburg_

_In the galley_

Pouring fresh coffee into a mug, Jim said, "I'm sure you missed coffee," and he offered the big steaming cup to his best friend.

Smirking Artemus said, "Yes, I did, mine, but not yours."

Pouting playfully, Jim sat down on a stool beside the small table, in front of his ex-partner. "And you missed a lot of other things too I suppose, starting with good cuisine?"

Closing his fingers around the porcelain mug, Artie nodded. "At first yes, but after a while it's easy to get accustomed to eating the Comanche menu, usually composed of buffalo, deer, or elk meat, sometimes rabbits, gathered nuts and berries, prairie turnips and wild potatoes, all meals flavored with wild herbs." He took a sip of bitter molasses-like coffee and then grimaced. "Gaah! It's still an abomination… " Mouth watering, he picked up one of the chocolate chip cookies which were piled in the glass jar siting on the table. "They're still warm!" He licked his lips hungrily, took a huge bite and … and then his eyes lit up and went big as the chocolate melted in his mouth. "Oh boy!" he said after swallowing a piece of the cookie, crunchy yet gooey on the inside. "This is the best cookie I've ever had!"

Jim chuckled. "You say that because you didn't eat a single cookie in a year. Your cookies are absolutely delicious."

Artemus nibbled the chocolate-chip goodness with a grin plastered on his face, savoring it, slowly, moaning with pleasure with every bite. "It's so good, it's heavenly… I missed cookies, pastries and cakes in general and I missed chocolate too…" Then he licked some of the melted chocolate off his fingers and said, "Thank you! You had a very good idea to buy a whole jar of cookies along with a box of cigars at the grocery store. I missed cigars too. But like everything else, I learned to live without them."

Jim nodded. "I knew you would love them." And in his turn he plunged his hand in the jar. He took a bite at the round biscuit and then added, mouth still full of cookie, "You should take a bath to clean off the dirt and grime from you," he remarked, nose wrinkled waving a hand in front of his face for emphasis. "Hot water, soap and shampoo are heavenly too, I heard." Then he smirked. "I think you should take two baths, one to clean your body and another as a treat for your old and stiff joints, because after days of riding, you must be in pain everywhere and aching with exhaustion."

Smiling, Artie nodded, ignoring Jim's teasing. "Excellent idea. I will, once my stomach is full." He picked up the crumbs or chocolate he had spilled on the table, ate them one after the other, so as not to waste anything and he replied, "At least my hands are clean. Mmm, it's just too good!"

Embarrassed, fingering the edge of his mug, looking the other man in the eyes, Jim asked, "Can I ask you something? You never replied to my letters Artemus… may I know why?"

Surprised Artie raised his eyebrows and asked, "Letters? What letters? Before we each go our separate ways you promised to write to me, but I never received anything. I waited for weeks, hoping to hear from you, and then seeing no letter coming, I thought you were somehow mad at me… and what was driving me crazy was that I didn't know why."

Feeling bad, even if he didn't have to be, Jim shook his head and then said, "I'm not mad at you Artie, I never was and I never will."

Feeling relieved Artie smiled and then he took a new sip of the hot and thick coffee and made a new grimace. "I think I know what happened, Jim. The Indian agent hates Indians and hates his job in general. I gave him my letters for you – addressed to Colonel Richmond so that he could transfer them to you – wherever you could be…"

Frowning, upset, Jim said, "I never received any of them."

Rubbing his forehead, Artie continued, "I suppose he destroyed them to hurt me – as I'm a Comanche warrior –and please himself. Next time I see him, I'll have a little chat with him about that." He frowned. "By the way, where do you live now?"

Smiling, Jim responded, "In Tecate, it's a small town in Mexico not far from the border with the US. I have a modest ranch and I breed and raise horses, quarter horses and Appaloosas. And… I have a family now. I met Carmelita a month after you left for the Comanche reservation and I instantly fell in love with her. We're engaged and we have two babies, Jesus and Rufina. One boy, one girl. Twins. Carmelita and I are planning to get married soon."

Artemus stared at Jim open-mouthed in stupefaction. Then, after a few seconds he rasped, "What?" He paused, released a 'wow!' and then said, "I'm glad I'm sitting down…" He grinned happily. "Congratulations!" then he frowned, upset. "And you're telling me this now? We've been together for hours!"

Embarrassed Jim nodded. "I know, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you about it, but with everything that happened, and all the 'excitement' I completely forgot." He smiled. "Thank you. I'd like you to come to my wedding and to be the godfather of my children. I wrote it in my letters."

Feeling tears welling up, as he was very moved and honored, Artie nodded. "It would be an honor… I accept with great pleasure."

Jim beamed. "The honor and the pleasure are mine."

Artie stood, sat his mug of un-drinkable coffee on the table and pulled Jim into a tight embrace. "I'm going to kill that Indian agent the next time I see him… to have deprived me of such wonderful news!" He parted from the other man, wiped his tears with the back of his hand and then patted Jim's shoulder friendly. "James West is affianced, he's going to get married soon and has two babies…Boy! I still can't believe it!" He chuckled. "Unbelievable! I still can't believe that James 'Don Juan' West is going to get married and he's the father of two children… I know a lot of women throughout the country who will be very disappointed to hear this… and some of them, could even kill you, driven to it by reasons of the heart, like jealousy."

Jim chuckled. "I'm sure. Then let's keep it secret." Seeing his best friend suddenly sway to the side and grab the edge of the table to keep his balance, he jumped to Artemus's side and put a hand under his elbow. Frowning in worry he asked, "Are you okay?"

Artie nodded and then yawned. "It's nothing, just a dizzy spell. I'm completely exhausted, worn out," he said to Jim who was looking at him, his brow furrowed in concern. "I'm fine, don't worry." He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and stumbled slightly. "It was a long, long, ride to get here and I wore myself down to the bone, and that's also why I'm so dirty and so smelly." He sniffed at his right armpit and looked embarrassed, suddenly realizing it. "I'm sorry about that. I barely stopped along the way to sleep and eat in order to get here as soon as possible – and of course didn't stop enroute to take a bath in a river or in a pond." He scratched his bearded chin. He needed a shave, he thought.

Eyes opened wide Jim stared at his best friend in disbelief. "What? You travelled to Washington on your horse? From Oklahoma Territory? I don't understand… Why didn't you take the train to get here like I did?"

Scratching the top of his head, Artemus responded, "I tried, but no one wanted to have an 'Indian' plus his horse on board. When I told the passengers I was a white man, nobody believed me. I didn't insist when three men unholstered their revolvers, pointed them at me and said 'go away red skin or we shoot you!' Major Barrett was at my side and he did his best to convince the passengers and the train controllers I was a special agent of the Secret Service in a covert mission in the Indian Territory, but they didn't believe him either. So he took the train alone and I mounted my horse. Thankfully Mo'éhno'ha Ȯhtameōhtsėstse is a strong horse. He deserves a big bucket of apples! I didn't attempt to embark on any other trains after that."

Shaking his head, appalled by that kind of despicable reaction Jim said, "I'm sorry, Artie, it should never have happened."

Waving a hand in dismissal Artie said, "It's nothing and I don't care. That kind of thing doesn't affect me." He stood and stretched out, hearing his bones popping and yawned loudly. "I'm going to take a long, hot bath. See you later Jim." He took a last sip and settled the empty mug in front of him. "Thanks for the coffee, even if it's awful."

Standing too, Jim said, "I'm going to do the dishes."

Moving toward the door, Artie, said, "As long as you do not prepare the meals it's okay by me, I don't want to die from poisoning", and then he left the small room, chuckling softly.

Jim grinned, happy to have Artie back at his side, like the good old times.

Tbc.


	2. Act One

**THE NIGHT OF THE BLUE DRAGON**

**By Andamogirl**

WWW

**ACT ONE**

_In the evening_

Eyes closed, Artemus was stretched out in the bath, head resting against the rim of the bathtub. His head was the only thing above the surface and the layer of bubbles.

He was drifting off to sleep, the hot water relaxing his tense muscles when Jim knocked at the door. He blinked his eyes open, yawned and said, "Come in!"

Half a second later the door of the bathroom was opened and Jim entered the small steamed up room, holding a glass of brandy and a cigar in one hand and a steaming mug of coffee in his other hand.

He spotted Strong Bear's clothing and body ornaments sitting in a semi-folded pile on the dresser and in front of a foggy mirror, and pulled up a stool.

He set it down next to the large bathtub and said, "I came to make sure you hadn't fallen asleep and drowned and I brought you this, Artie. Two things you love. Coffee is not included, because I made it and you hate it. It's only for me."

Smiling, Artemus moved into a sitting position and reached out, wincing as his shoulder and arm were aching, like the rest of his body, and he accepted the cigar – end clipped and already lit, the smoke spiraling up - and the glass of the amber liquor filled to the rim. "Thank you, Jim. It will help me to relax a bit more."

Jim smiled. "That's what I was thinking."

The heavy scent of tobacco hit his nose – replacing the citrus fruit scent of the soap bubbles - and Artie inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in pleasure. The Ybor 'El Principe de Gales' smelled absolutely wonderful. "It's one of my favorite cigars, thank you, Jim." And he took a sip of alcohol. "Mmmm… Boy! I missed good brandy too." Then he pulled his first puff of smoke and slowly blew it out. "And this too," he said, a smile of near ecstasy on his lips. "I thought it would be more difficult to reacquaint myself with all the comfort of the Wanderer, but no. It was easy, as if I never left the train."

Focusing his gaze on Artie's loose hair cascading over his muscular broad shoulders, Jim remembered when Artie had disguised himself as the Texas rancher Ellsworth Caldwell, wearing a wig with long, black, curly hair. "Are you going to braid your hair again?" He asked.

Artie shook his head. "No, it would only bring me trouble. I'm going to make my hair into a bun. It's simple and convenient." Then he swallowed a little brandy.

Jim nodded. "No new Comanche tattoo?" As he surveyed the other man's upper body, clusters of bubbles slowly sliding down his dark skin.

Shaking his head, Artie replied, "None." He took a new sip of liquor and said, "Silver Cloud wanted me to have one after we mixed our blood to become blood-brothers… but I refused, two are plenty. As I have Comanche blood running through my veins now, I'm not an 'adoptive' Comanche anymore, but a 'plain' one. And I'm completely happy with my new life, even if I sometimes miss a glass of brandy and a good cigar, among other things." Then he took another long draw, lips clenching around the shaft, savoring the flavor.

Curious, Jim asked, "No girlfriend?"

Shaking his head Artemus lifted his long legs - bubbles gently popping on the water - and put both feet on the opposite side of the white, glossy bathtub. "No, no girlfriend, and no children. Being single is fine with me." Tilting his head back he relaxed further back into the 'claw foot' porcelain enameled cast iron container, puffing on his cigar, smoke spiraling away.

The two sat there in companionable silence for a time, Jim sipping at his coffee and Artie smoking his cigar while listening to the rain which was pummeling the Wanderer.

Jim finished his coffee and then said, "I put your clothes and other things you need in your sleeping compartment." He stood and added, "I came here to tell you too that we should reach the militarized border of the quarantine around Vicksburg in one hour."

Artie nodded. "I'll be ready," he said.

Moving toward the door Jim suddenly stopped, turned around and asked, "Why do you think Loveless wants to see us in Vicksburg in all places?"

Taking another long drag of the cigar, Artemus pursed his lips, blowing perfect smoke-rings toward the ceiling of the bathroom watching them slowly fading into the air. "Simple. Vicksburg is empty. Half of the population is dead, dying or has fled. Loveless doesn't want to be disturbed, besides he has the serum and he injected himself with it, so he's protected from the yellow fever. We are not. But his goal is not that we both fall sick and die a few days later from the yellow fever, he wants to kill us himself with no one to bother him. He chose the right place to do that."

Confident, Jim said, "And his plan will fail, inevitably."

Smiling around his cigar, Artie nodded. "Of course it will. We always win, Artie. Do you remember when I almost died from the yellow fever on that island?"

Jim nodded. "Yes, I do, vividly. We had been quarantined On the Sand Island Lighthouse, in the Keeper's house and we got caught in a hurricane."

Artie took a sip of brandy. "Loveless was holed up there… and we almost burned alive in the lighthouse where he had locked us in."

Jim nodded. "I remember. The lightning had struck on the top of the lighthouse, and it exploded, and the fire had spread very quickly because Loveless had stored chemical products for his research in the other rooms as well as the combustible material for the alcohol burners…" He frowned in worry. "I hope you won't have yellow fever again."

Artie nodded. "Me too, that was horrible."

Outside the rain started to fall heavily pummeling the roof and the windows of the Wanderer.

Jim came back one minute later with a crystal ashtray. "I don't want you to drop ashes on the floor you cleaned earlier, right?"

Suddenly the train's whistle blew a warning and the two men knew that they were approaching Vicksburg's quarantined zone.

WWW

_Later_

_In the parlor car_

His long hair was still wet, but neatly combed and tied in a bun when Artie entered the common area of the train dressed in his brand new clothes.

He was dressed in a brown jacket with tan lapels, worn with brown pants and black knee-high boots over his pant legs. He was wearing a yellow shirt, a gold waist coat and a brown tie.

He smiled at Jim. "Thank you for my new clothes and for the rest too, especially the Colt Single Action Army Cavalry Model, you chose well, I love everything," he said.

Smiling too, Jim said, "My pleasure, buddy. I'm glad you like your new clothes and new gun. You look like the man you were before you left the Secret Service, but three sizes smaller." He had just said that when the Wanderer slowed down.

Artie addressed a look of mock outrage at Jim – who chuckled softly in response, a twinkle in his eyes - and like him, he looked through a window - the heavy rain coming in sheets pounding against the glass - and saw dozens of armed soldiers and their horses gathered near campfires and tents, along the railway track. They were there to prevent any passage through the contaminated area, and to prevent people with yellow fever from leaving Vicksburg, the two men thought at the same time.

The train came to a screeching halt a couple of minutes later.

Shortly after there was a knock at the door. Artie walked over and opened it to two soaking-wet cavalry officers standing on the rear platform, dripping water.

He smiled and said, "Good evening officers. I'm Artemus Gordon, special agent of the Secret Service, welcome on board the Wanderer. Please come in." And he moved aside, leaving the two men to enter the room.

He closed the door behind the two men dressed in soaked blue uniform coats and gestured toward Jim who was standing beside the table. "This is my partner, James West."

Holding the President's mission order, Jim moved toward the Captain and the Lieutenant. "Good evening gentlemen," he said.

The US Cavalry Captain saluted. "Good evening, Mr. West. I'm Captain Bennett and this is Lieutenant Foster. Colonel Richmond alerted me this morning to your arrival and we were waiting for you. He told me and that you have the President's authorization to go to Vicksburg."

Giving the letter to Bennett Jim said, "This is our mission order, signed by President Hayes. When will your men be able to clear the railroad track of the barricade?"

Bennett read the mission order and responded, "My men are already working on it, Mr. West. Everything is in order, thank you." And he gave the mission order back to Jim.

Lieutenant Foster intervened, "You should be able to head to the railway station within minutes, Mr. West, but there's a severe yellow fever epidemic there. I advise you not to linger in Vicksburg if you don't want to get sick and die."

Nodding, Jim said, "We know."

Once the two officers stepped out into the downpour, Artemus closed the door and then shot an outraged glare at his partner. "Are you implying that I was fat?"

Smirking, Jim replied, "No, just big boned."

WWW

_The next morning_

It was a deluge.

The deserted streets of Vicksburg around the railroad station were slick with mud, puddles spreading rapidly across the waterlogged ground.

Glancing around him protected from the rain under his white hat and black oilskin poncho, Artemus said, "It looks like the whole area was abandoned by its inhabitants."

Looking around him once again, his hand resting on his gun, Jim replied, "You're right, Artie. It looks like a ghost town. There's no one here. They all left."

The two men crossed the street as the rain splattered on them, the saturated ground squelching beneath their boots, heading toward the saloon called the 'Golden Card', the rain coming down like a waterfall, zigzagging between the puddles and jumping above them but they couldn't avoid the sticky mud covering their boots with fresh layers of muck.

Once in front of the immobile swinging door, they looked inside and noticed there was no one inside, no patrons and no waitresses and no one behind the piano and the bar.

Lowering his hand on the stock of his long-barreled Colt holstered at his side, Artie said, "Loveless arranged to rendezvous here to give him the ten million dollars in gold bars. We're here but without the gold bars."

Jim nodded. "And our mission is to find the serum and arrest Loveless. It's going to be 'an easy mission for experienced and talented men' like us, the President told me."

Harrumphing Artie said, "Sure! Easy to say, not easy to do."

They entered the saloon. Once inside, sheltered from the rain and warm humidity, the two agents quickly surveyed the place. A few tables had been knocked over, a few chairs too. The dusty soil was covered with dried muddy footprints that went in all directions. Glasses were left on the floor, as well as bottles, cards and poker chips. There were also ashtrays, ash and cigar studs scattered on the floor. On the bar they saw bottles of whiskey half empty, glasses still filled, and others empty.

Everything indicated that everyone left in haste.

Shaking his hat, droplets hitting the wooden floor, Artie said, "They all left in a hurry, probably after someone who was sick entered here, or died here..." Then he removed his dripping poncho and folded it on the back of a chair.

Jim nodded. "Probably."

Artemus dropped his Stetson on a table, next to a corked bottle of Kentucky bourbon whiskey. Sitting down on a chair he added, "No one will bother us here, as the place is empty, and this part of the city too." He quickly removed the cork and watched Jim settle two dusty glasses on the table. "Just perfect!"

Looking around him at the deserted saloon Jim asked,. "I wonder how long Loveless will make us wait before he chooses to show himself?" Then he took off his own poncho and wet hat and placed them on a nearby table, next to a candle holder containing an almost melted candle and an ashtray filled with cigar butts.

Pouring the liquor into the glasses, Artie replied, "I don't know. But as usual, he's gonna do a 'grand entrance'. I propose to wait for him while drinking bourbon and playing cards, I saw a deck on one of the tables at the bottom… " And smiled when he saw Jim shake his head. "I promise not to cheat!"

Lifting his glass, Jim said, "You always cheat," and he took a sip. The alcohol burned its way down his throat and then settled in his belly – giving him immediate cramps. His face screwed up. "Good grief that's awful! It's like drinking liquid lava."

Imitating Jim, Artie took a sip of whiskey and then he licked his burning lips! "It's not that bad!" He let out as the alcohol burned his insides, and he set his glass down on the table. "It's not the best Bourbon I ever drank, but it's not that bad."

Affronted, Jim crossed his arms over his chest with a frown on his face and he said, "You can't drink my coffee yet drinking this abomination doesn't bother you? Let me tell you that I feel insulted." Then he pursed his lips together in a tight line.

Eyes twinkling playfully Artie replied, "I wouldn't call that thing 'coffee' but ultra-bitter dark molasses. It's not coffee so don't feel insulted." He picked up his half-full glass and drained it in one gulp. Then he slapped the glass back down beside Jim's. "Waaah! That could bring anybody back from the grave!"

He poured himself a second glass and slowly downed half of it. Jim pulled out a cigarillo from the inner pocket of his blue bolero jacket.

He bit the end, placed it in an ashtray and lit a match against the table. He rolled the small cigar over the flame taking a long draw before letting the smoke out from his mouth.

Circling his glass slowly with a fingertip, Artie asked playfully, "You don't mind if I play Solitaire?" Then without waiting for Jim's response, he stood and headed toward the table where he had spotted a pack of cards. He heard his partner say, "Be my guest" and smiled.

He was coming back to the table where Jim was still sitting, his boots, caked with layers of mud, propped on the table, smoking his cigarillo and making smoke rings when he stopped abruptly, his vision blurring, his head pounding, his legs wobbly like jelly.

He didn't quite feel all right.

He frowned and felt his skin prickle. "What?" And alarm bells started to ring in his head.

Looking at his best friend who was staggering like he was drunk, Jim said, "You shouldn't have drunk that awful bourbon, Artie. You're not accustomed to drinking alcohol anymore. You only drank water for a year!" Then he realized that in his state Artie was unable to do anything. "Okay, let's go back to the Wanderer. We'll come back here later when you'll have slept off your liquor."

Shaking his head, trying to clear his double-vision, Artie collapsed on a chair. "'S'not that…" He tried to stand but his whole body felt like it was liquefying. It was far too warm and the air seemed suffocating. He had experienced that before, the many times he had been drugged, he thought. "Not… drunk," he slurred. "Drug… ged." He slumped limply on the table, his eyes glassy and unfocused, then he slid to the side like a ragdoll and lay prostrate on the dirty floor.

Jim's spine stiffened.

He stood in a flash and rushed toward his partner, swaying from side to side – he too had been drugged he realized.

He crouched beside his partner and noticed that Artemus was unconscious and that his breathing was shallow and quick. "Artie! Wake up buddy!" He shook the older man's shoulder but Artie didn't regain consciousness. He didn't even twitch.

He stood and looked at the bottle of bourbon and at the two glasses. "The bourbon is drugged… Loveless did it again." He said his words sluggish, as it wasn't the first time Artemus and he had been neutralized that way. He pulled out his gun, the room spinning around him. "Drank it too… Where are you Loveless?" He looked around him at the deserted saloon his vision graying at the edges. "Where are you? Show yourself!"

Silence.

Or almost. The downpour was now accompanied by the sound of a distant thunderstorm and the sky was darkening by the minute.

Feeling very weak Jim suddenly fell forward on his knees to the wooden floor and slid to the side, dark spots invading his vision. He could feel his consciousness slipping away.

He dropped his revolver to the floor which slid under a chair. "No," he rasped, trying to grab it, but his hand didn't respond. He was closing his eyes when he heard Loveless's gleeful cackling.

Darkness enveloped him.

WWW

_Later_

_In Colonel Vautrain's manor_

_In the parlor room_

Dr. Miguelito Loveless looked down at his prisoners, dressed in their underwear, sitting bound hand and foot at his feet and slowly regaining consciousness.

Blinking his eyes open, Jim was the first to wake and feeling groggy and dizzy, he looked up with bleary eyes at a blurred silhouette he recognized nonetheless.

Loveless smiled. "Good morning Mr. West. It's always a pleasure to meet you," he said as he watched Artemus half-opening his eyes. "And good morning to you too, Mr. Gordon."

His vision clearing, trying to shake the wooziness from his brain, Jim replied, with a throaty voice, his mouth painfully dry. "The pleasure is all yours."

The small man chuckled. "No gold bars for me? I'm so disappointed. But the bottom line is that the two of you are here. Let me guess, you came to stop me and get the serum and once in prison, to avoid being hanged, I will agree to make a large quantity of it to cure everyone with yellow fever and vaccinate others so that they don't get sick in turn, right?" He grinned. "You failed. And I won't give the serum to anyone."

Jim turned toward Artie blinking tiredly, noticing that he was half-naked and that he was also just dressed in his short underwear. "You okay?"

Shaking his head Artemus rasped, "No, not okay… feel like I was… ran over by a herd of buffalos… and feeling sick… " His head hurt. Everything was blurred. As he couldn't get his eyes to focus, he closed them and gritted his teeth against a sudden wave of vertigo and nausea that swept through him and he almost retched on the floor. "S' like h'ving han'over," he slurred.

Loveless smiled again and said, "You ingested more drug than your partner, Mr. Gordon, so it will take more time for it to wear off." He frowned in curiosity and asked. "Why are you living with Comanche Indians Mr. Gordon?" Seeing that Artie was surprised, he added, "I like to know everything about my enemies in order to kill them more easily."

But Artemus, his eyes half-mast, looking bored and unimpressed didn't reply, doing it on purpose to anger the short-tempered diminutive man. "Whatever you say."

Scowling, Loveless snapped his fingers twice. "Bring me a chair!" And a few seconds later one of his minions complied.

Sitting on the chair, Loveless observed Jim and Artemus with envy and said, "You look very fit, Mr. Gordon, as fit as Mr. West. Living with the Comanche since you retired did you a lot of good. I would have liked to have a body like yours, gentlemen, tall, strong, muscular but destiny or fate wanted it otherwise, but it gave me the most brilliant brains in the world in compensation, making me the most intelligent man in the world."

Opening one eye aimed at his Nemesis, Artie smiled teasingly replied, "Is that so? Then why do all your plans to get rid of Jim and me fail?"

Scowling, Loveless replied, "It has nothing to do with my extraordinary intelligence Mr. Gordon, it's due to bad luck, that's all." He paused and added, "I have consulted all the oracles, seers and fortune tellers throughout the world, and they are in agreement, luck is now on my side."

Surprised, Jim said, "I never imagined that with your Cartesian and scientific mind you would believe in the foolish predictions of oracles seers and fortune tellers."

Loveless nodded. "True. After the last time we met – and you escaped and survived – I wondered why I always failed to eliminate you, while my schemes were perfect in every way, from a technical and scientific point of view and planned down to the smallest detail. They should have worked. I had no logical explication and it drove me crazy… Then I thought it has nothing to do with logic, but with luck. When you have eliminated the impossible, what remains, however improbable, is necessarily the truth. I was very unlucky, that's all. But I'm very lucky now. For example, I chanced to see Colonel Vautrain a week ago, in Vicksburg."

Finally the two men recognized the place – they had been transported into the past again as the manor was intact and at its height. But they couldn't hear the sounds of the battle of Vicksburg like the first time they had been there, and they wondered why.

Still looking around him Artie said, "I knew there was a reason why you asked Jim and me to come to Vicksburg in the middle of an outbreak of yellow fever. You met Vautrain here."

Loveless nodded. "Yes and also to be able to kidnap you in broad daylight without being bothered by anyone, as that part of the city was abandoned."

His face impassive, as usual not showing his worry, Jim nodded and then said, "So, you're working with Colonel Vautrain again, I see?"

Colonel Vautrain dressed in a white, glossy tunic and black pants and black boots suddenly appeared on top of the 'grand escalier' leading to the first floor. "Yes, Dr. Loveless and I are working together again", he said. Using his bionic prostheses which resembled real legs, he came down the stairs and moved toward the two restrained agents of the Secret Service. "The last time we met gentlemen was after you came back home, after I sent you to a distant planet lost in a galaxy far, far, away. How did you do that by the way?"

Looking up at the ex-Confederate officer Artie just said, "It's a long story. I'm sure you're dying to know everything, and you'll know nothing, nothing! You must feel very frustrated, don't you?' He smiled as he was ready to say 'neener, neener', but he restrained himself. He had the juvenile desire to stick his tongue out at the other man but he didn't.

Colonel Vautrain crossed his arms before his chest and let out a grunt of annoyance. "As you know, during my stay in the future, I met people who helped me to develop my power and I'm now capable of…" He said and paused, preparing the effect, savoring it in advance. "I'm now capable of sending anything or anyone, anywhere, anytime. I don't even need to find a place to open a portal between this dimension and the fourth… I just need to concentrate and… you vanish, going wherever and whenever I want you to go." He sat down in an armchair and smiled broadly. "I control travel in space and time." He looked around him and added, "I'm a bit nostalgic sometimes and I need to come back here from time to time…"

Looking up at Vautrain Jim nodded and asked, "Speaking of time, are you going to send us to the past again, or to the future?"

Noel Bartley Vautrain smiled. "I sent you into the far, far past once, and you came back, I sent you into the very distant future and you came back too – and I must say I'm very impressed. I don't know how you did it, but it's not going to happen again."

Miguelito Loveless intervened, "I told Colonel Vautrain that I wanted a 'creative' way to get rid of you but the Colonel wanted a more radical and brutal way to kill you, with one bullet in your head and one in your heart, to be sure you are dead. But we reached a compromise. He accepted using his power to transport you through time – and in a situation where you would have zero chance to survive – to satisfy my demand, and after a couple of days he will bring you back to see if you are still alive. And if you are, which I doubt very much, he'll shoot you, purely and simply. Somehow you'll both be dead, and we'll be very happy to be rid of you."

Eyes darkening Colonel Vautrain added, "And I hope you will survive so that I have the personal pleasure of killing you Mr. West and Mr. Gordon – right here, where you should have died in the first place – but thanks to the Union's artillery, you didn't."

Remembering what had happened, Jim said, "Then bring us back before it happens in order to kill us there, but it could be very dangerous, you could be killed this time."

Colonel Vautrain looked at Loveless and said, "I think it's time for our guests to get ready for their travel in time and space."

Dr. Loveless nodded and pulled out a box from his right pocket of gray jacket. He opened it and took the pre-filled syringe which was kept inside. "It's a sedative, because I don't want to spoil the surprise for you. The place you're going to go is very surprising, but you'll find out soon enough. Enough talking!" Then he moved toward James West.

He pressed the needle through the skin of Jim's neck then he made it slip further into the tender flesh before injecting half of the yellow liquid, his thumb on the plunger.

He did the same thing to Artemus, guiding the sharp needle into the older agent's neck, pushing the thick liquid inside his body.

Colonel Vautrain smiled and then he said, "Sleep well gentlemen. I'll see you in two days, whether you are intact or in pieces."

Blackness engulfed Jim and Artie within seconds.

The ex-Confederate officer added, "And you won't gentlemen because the beast in this other world has a taste for human flesh."

Loveless cackled with glee. "It's a pity not to be able to attend what is waiting for them in this cavern. I would have liked to watch this fantastic creature devour them."

WWW

_Much later_

_In a world, far, far away_

Jim's eyes fluttered open as he regained consciousness and a throbbing pain made itself known. He was lying on a hard, gravelly surface.

He wrinkled his nose picking up an acrid smell of fire and smoke – and it took a few seconds for his vision to finally adjust to the semi darkness and he saw above him the dome-shaped ceiling of a cave clustered with pointy stalactites.

Black smoke was billowing there and escaping through crevices in the gray rock.

Cave! He thought.

There was a soft snorting sound to his left and he turned his head in that direction, and behind Artemus, lying still asleep at his side, he noticed the rocky wall covered with lots of scorch marks and what looked like numerous dark stains (blood, he assumed). "What is this place?" He asked himself, as alarm bells started to ring in his head. Ignoring the massive migraine he was feeling, he shook Artie's shoulder and the other man woke up, slowly.

Artemus blinked, his eyes gummy and he opened his eyes. His vision swimming he craned his neck to look around him. "A cave, lovely," he rasped. "Ow! Boy! Hurts!" He groaned, a massive headache hitting his head like a hammer. He started rubbing his temples, in an attempt to soothe his still aching head, grimacing in pain. "It's like someone has split my poor ol'noggin in half…" He buried his face in his hands and added, "I feel like I got run over by the Wanderer, twice."

Jim finally gained the strength to sit up and noticed that the cave was lit by a couple of big fires. His ears strained for any sign of life, but heard nothing except for the crackling of the large flames.

In the dim light he saw that human bones littered the ground everywhere, as well as many pieces of what looked like slashed pieces of cloth and cracked medieval knight's armor and also many piles of cold ash - and chills ran up his spine.

Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong, he thought warily.

He thought, bears killed them all and devoured them!

He noticed too that his ankles were caught in shackles and saw that his partner was equally restrained like this too. "I think I know 'when' Vautrain sent us – during the Middle-Ages." He looked down at his best friend and pulled him into a sitting position. "I guess it's better than ending up crushed by mammoths or kidnapped by extraterrestrials."

Glancing around him, Artemus took in his surroundings as his vision adjusted to the weak light of the cave. After half a minute he said "Well, it looks like we ended up in the Middle-Ages… Many knights were slaughtered here…" He frowned in worry. "By what? bears? Other predators? I propose we get out of here before meeting what killed them."

Concerned too, Jim nodded, "I'd like that, but how?"

Artemus pulled out a hair pin from his bun and used it to skillfully and rapidly unlock his shackles. "And voilà!" He gave the hair pin to Jim and then pulled out a folding knife also from his bun. He unfolded it, making Jim smile, then he stood. "Like this. Let's get out of here!"

Standing in his turn, his ankles freed, Jim asked, "Do you have something else hidden in your bun Artie? And by the way, that was a great idea!"

Smiling proudly Artemus pulled out a small gun from his loosened bun, a Remington Model 95, a double-barreled pocket pistol. "Yes, I have."

Jim grinned. "I always knew you were a resourceful man. Well done!"

His long hair now loose and reaching his shoulders, Artie chuckled and said, "I knew that Loveless would get rid of our clothes so we wouldn't be able to keep gadgets hidden in them, he's so predictable! So I chose to transform my bun into a mini arsenal." And he placed the Derringer in Jim's hand. "Make good use of it, Jim! There are only two bullets inside."

Falsely upset, Jim scowled and said, "What? No other bullets? You have enough room in your big bun to hide a Colt SAA Cavalry model."

Artie smiled and replied, "Well, maybe next time. I will need to have longer hair for that." He patted Jim's shoulder. "I love it! It's like the good old times! I missed that."

Smiling, Jim nodded. "Right, but we stopped doing 'that' one year ago, Artie. You say that as if we had retired ten years ago. It's not been that long." He picked up a long bone from the ground, wrapped a piece of cloth around its top and then lit it in the closer fire. "Now we have a torch," he said.

Pointing at the ground where there were a multitude of massive clawed footprints, both fresh and old, Artie felt a shiver running down his spine. "Bears don't have paws that big… Actually I never saw such enormous animal footprints…"

Both intrigued and anxious, Jim asked, "You don't know what kind of animal they belong to?"

Brow furrowed – searching in his encyclopedic knowledge – Artie replied a few seconds later, "No, I don't, but they look like lizards footprints… For example species of Monitor lizards range from 8 inches in some species, to over 10 feet in others, and the now extinct varanid known as megalania may have been capable of reaching lengths of more than 20 feet!"

Feeling antsy, Jim said, "Okay, let's move!"

WWW

The two men headed toward the dark and damp passage ahead, slowly and stealthily, tense and alert, careful not to alert the beasts who lived there.

Artie nodded. "True, but time goes by more slowly when you live with the Comanche." He placed his finger before his lips and added, "Shhh…"

Fifteen minutes later, the seemingly endless, dark and damp tunnel stopped and they reached and passed the large mouth of the cave.

Once outside, they walked forward into a vast scorched clearing lined with high trees – gouged by deep gashes, broken in pieces and partially or completely burned - and they were welcomed by big piles of poo, a few of them fresh and still steaming, in which they spotted broken bones and pieces of bloody flesh and even a helmet and a spear head.

The smell was unbearable and they felt nauseous.

Various broken weapons - spears, swords, masses - and shredded shields could be seen here and there lying on the blackened ground – as well as armored dead horses, some recently dead, others in decay and others reduced to skeletons.

Both frowning in confusion, Jim and Artie looked at each other, then Artie said, "Big lizards don't make piles of poo this big… right?"

Glancing down at his tattooed dragon, Artie said, "It depends of what kind of big lizard… I know one animal which can eat knights riding their horses and holding spears and shields…Dragons! But dragons don't exist, they are legendary creatures that appear in the folklore of many cultures around the world."

Looking down at a large lacerated shield (by huge claws), Jim said, "It would seem that we ended up in the Middle-Ages. Or rather in a version of the Middle-Ages, in a land, far, far away… where dragons really exist – and knights are fighting them and dying by the dozens, obviously. I'm sure that Vautrain sent us into another world… With his power he can do anything. He once sent us to another planet, remember? We almost died there frozen to death after almost dying from being trampled by a herd of mammoths."

He had no sooner said that, than a low, deep and very powerful roar resounded – coming from the deep forest encircling the cave.

Moving backward as he was feeling the ground shake beneath his feet, Jim said, "They had dragons in the Middle-Ages, right?" and his blood ran cold.

Swallowing hard, a chill going up his spine, Artie took two steps back, "Legends…" He said, but not believing it anymore, almost losing his balance as the ground was shaking. "We were prisoners in the dragon's cave… It ate those knights… and one knight recently… and plus, there's no treasure in the cave, no gold, no gems, nothing. Maybe it's keeping it's hoard elsewhere."

Gulping, Jim nodded. "Loveless and Vautrain shackled us in the dragon's lair so that the beast could eat us more easily. I know now why Loveless told us we would have zero chance to survive…"

Artie took in his surroundings and pointed to the left, at a small opening in the dense forest, and said, "Let's go this way Jim! We're sitting ducks here!"

But it was too late. They heard incredibly loud footsteps and the low rumble of the dragons' growl as it approached, and felt the ground lightly shaking with vibrations under their feet.

Jim's heart leaped into his throat. "It's coming."

Paralyzed by fear the two men, became speechless at the sight of the large dragon emerging from the dark forest, its long forked tongue sticking out between razor sharp teeth made for ripping flesh from bone. The beast's wings were folded, It had two feet in the front and two strong hind legs and enormous claws and it was balancing its long tail.

The dragon was huge, much bigger than they thought it would be – and, trembling, feeling their knees go weak, they both thought at the same time, 'We're dead!'

Letting out another huge roar, the large creature covered with black scales reflecting bright sunlight except for its spiky back and tail moved forward and then it stood up, to its full height and it snapped its large wings open, smoke curling out from its nostrils.

It opened his mouth wide, exposing long, sharp teeth and it breathed a bolt of flame in the direction of the two men.

For a few seconds, Jim and Artie almost forgot how to breathe, the blood drained from their faces. They reacted a split second before being carbonized, plunging to the burnt ground covered with various debris coming from weapons the knights had used. The flames missed them by a hair.

Crying out, Artie glanced at his right arm – an arrow head was embedded in his flesh, right in the middle of his tattoo.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled it out. "I'm okay," he said to Jim.

Climbing to their feet, the two men looked at each other, fear widening their eyes. Artie said, "You have the gun, use it!"

His mouth going dry, Jim shook his head. "Artie no!"

But Artemus didn't listen to his best friend and ran toward the dragon moving his arms up and down to attract its attention, placing himself in the horned beast's line of fire. Then he abruptly changed direction, running to the left at top speed. The dragon turned around – and tried to catch Artie with one of its razor sharp claws – as he released another roar of flames.

Heart pounding in his ears, Artie dodged the big deadly foot but screamed as he was hit by the burst of flames, and he collapsed next to a dried pile of poo, his back badly burnt and smoking.

He instinctively curled into a trembling ball and protected his head with his arms as a searing pain was engulfing him.

Moving toward the dragon, Jim called, "Hey you! The dragon! Come get me!" and, when the creature turned its scaly head toward him, growling deep in its throat., he lifted his Derringer his hand shaking desperately as he fired – aiming at the dragon's big slit orange eye.

One bullet missed it, bouncing off the hard scales but the second one hit its target.

Howling in pain and growling in rage, the dragon stood on its hind legs and rose to its full height, towering over the human. It waved its long tail, flapped its bat-like wings, reared its head back, maw wide open and spat out a huge blast of fire in Jim's direction.

Reacting in a split second Jim ducked behind a rock before being turned into charcoal by the dragon's fiery breath, rolled to his side and curled himself into a tight ball, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling the intense heat of the fire engulfing him.

Soaked in sweat, he glanced at Artemus who had crawled on his hands and knees and was picking up an intact spear from the ravaged ground. "Artie! No! No! Don't do that! We have to get out of here!"

Half-blinded, the dragon turned its focus on the human holding the spear. It breathed inwards again, standing even taller and it opened its mouth and sent a wall of flames in Artemus's direction before Artie could throw the spear.

In a flash Artie leaped to the side, curled into a fetal position and shielded by big piles of dragon's poo, he avoided being incinerated but felt the intense heat … the huge beast's feces melting like wax close to the flame in the intensity of the maintained stream of fire.

Feeling the dragon's fire burnt his back, Artemus screamed and howled as an excruciating pain seared through his entire body.

The smell of his own burning flesh filled his nostrils and overcome by the sudden wave of dizziness and nausea, he vomited on the blackened grass.

Pale as a ghost Jim swallowed thickly and asked, his voice trembling, "Artie! You still there?"

Tears of searing pain streaming down his face, Artie stood, his legs shaking. "Yes! I'm still here," he rasped and then he went into action.

Gathering what was left of his strength, he let out a long Comanche attack cry and threw the spear… right into the dragon's intact eye.

The dragon lifted its head upward and released an earth-shaking roar of pain, tail whipping around wildly, and the sound was so deafening that the shock wave produced sent the two men flying into the air, their eardrums nearly busted, leaving them disoriented for a few seconds.

Grabbing his best friend's arm, Jim pulled Artie up on his feet, as gently as possible – making the other man scream in blazing agony, pain radiating through him, carefully avoiding any burns "I'm sorry, let's get out of here!"

His jaw tightened, Artie asked, his voice hoarse, "How are they? The burns, I mean, and don't lie to me to spare my feelings."

Jim replied honestly, "They're bad, but they'll heal in time… But they'll leave their mark…" And, with an arm wrapped around his partner's waist helped him to run to the small opening in the forest.

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The two men stopped on the way, briefly and Jim grabbed a piece of what was left of a blue cape, and then they rushed toward the line of trees which was standing in front of them.

Now completely blind the dragon let out a terrifying roar and shot blistering waves of fire, reducing, in an instant half of the forest around it in piles of ashes.

For minutes the two men ran for their lives, the blind dragon devastating the forest around him with its wings, tail and bolts of fire, without seeing, as it was following them, thanks to their scents.

Jim and Artie suddenly stopped dead in their tracks as they reached the edge of a high cliff overlooking a wide river, standing poised there as the maddened dragon was approaching.

Jim used the piece of cloth he was holding to bandage Artie's bleeding wound. "It's the best I can do," he said, his ears ringing.

Smiling Artemus replied, "Thanks Jim," as the world was spinning around him.

Bolts of flames surrounding them on each side and spreading fast as the creature was closing in, Jim and Artie looked at each other both ready to dive off of the cliff.

Smiling Jim said, "See you down there, Artie."

Reaching out, Artemus pressed his best friend's shoulder and he said, "Or we'll see in each other in another life, Jim. We can very well end up like pancakes down there in the river as we have no idea how deep it is… " His stomach growled it needed to be filled. "Mmm, pancakes…" He chuckled. "That was fun!" And all his muscles tensed, he walked back a few feet and then he sprinted toward the edge of the cliff and flung himself as far as he could into thin air.

Taking a deep breath, adrenaline rushing through him, his heart racing in his chest, Jim jumped in after Artemus, straight into the water below, his arms wrapped tightly around him, bracing for impact.

Hitting the surface of the water with a huge splash was like hitting a wall and the two men almost lost consciousness as they sank like a stone deep underwater.

The water was freezing, and Jim and Artie pushed their legs and broke the surface with a strangled gasp, desperately sucking down much needed air.

Glancing around him Jim spotted Artie who was struggling to swim and stay on the surface, crying out, each movement an agony.

He slowly swam toward his partner – fighting the numbness in his limbs making it nearly impossible to swim - and managed to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling Artie toward him. "I'm here Artie/"

Holding his partner tighter, serving as a buoy keeping Artemus's head above water, Jim swam toward the sandy shore extending off the northern base of the cliff side, which was jagged with black pointy rocks.

Once there, sitting on the cold ground, soaked, shivering, they hid behind a couple of sharp, moss-covered rocks and peeked up at the top of the cliff.

The forest was burning up there, huge flames engulfing the big trees, black smoke billowing, darkening the blue sky, but there was no dragon in sight.

Sighing in relief, Jim noticed that Artie's lips had turned blue, that his cheeks and ears were red and he almost couldn't feel his fingers. He supposed he looked the same. "It's not going to come after us, it's blind and it can't fly anymore. But let's get out of here. We need to find help."

He helped his best friend to stand and Artemus screamed in excruciating pain from the multiple burns covering his back as he struggled wearily to his feet.

Deeply worried, Jim winced in sympathy and said, "Let's find a doctor, Artie. We have to get those burns cleaned up."

Shaking his head, teeth gritted, Artie rasped between gasps of pain, "Doctors don't exist here, only witches, sorcerers or mages… Ya, let's find one, because, boy, it hurts!" Then he took an unsteady step forward.

They moved as gingerly as possible, toward a path running along the river, Jim doing his best not to disturb his best friend's wounds too much.

Suddenly they heard horses neighing and a knight, holding a shield emblazoned with two horizontal red stripes and three soldiers appeared behind a line of rocks.

Spreading his aching fingers Artie said, "We have visitors, Jim."

The knight, helmet on his head pulled out his sword from his scabbard dangling at his side and he headed toward the two agents, saying, "Don't move! Or we will kill you! Raise your hands!" In English. He was soon joined by the soldiers holding spears who encircled their prisoners.

Raising their hands, Jim and Artie looked at each other, and Jim said, "At least they speak English," and Artie added, "To be continued."

Tbc.


	3. Act Two

**THE NIGHT OF THE BLUE DRAGON**

**By Andamogirl**

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**ACT TWO**

_Later_

Escorted by the knight and the three soldiers, Jim and Artemus were heading toward a medieval castle built on the top of a rocky hill – when a young woman with long blonde hair, wearing leather riding clothes, a sword at her side, mounted on a white horse, approached them.

Immediately the knight raised his hand, said, "Halt!" and everyone halted in the middle of the road paved with cobblestones.

He bowed his head and said, "You shouldn't ride without your escort Helaan and you should head back to the castle, the King might get worried," and the blond woman chuckled.

She moved her horse alongside the knight's and replied, "You usually escort me, Sir Mereen, and I missed you, brother." She looked down at the prisoners and asked, "Who are they?"

Sir Mereen responded, "I don't know, I captured them on the bank of the river. I saw them jump from the cliff near the dragon's lair."

Lady Helaan was very surprised. "And they're still alive?" She dismounted and moved toward Jim. "No one has ever survived the dragon's attack. Did you slay the dragon?"

Bowing his head slightly, Jim replied, "No, we didn't, but we fought the dragon." Then he looked at the young woman, offering her his most charming smile, as he felt her very attractive. He ignored Artie rolling his eyes and added, "My best friend and I hurt the dragon. It's blind now."

Everyone but Jim and Artemus was astounded.

Sir Mereen said, "It's incredible… no one has ever hurt the dragon. In fact no one has ever approached the dragon close enough to hit the creature, not even our best knights."

Helaan mounted her solid horse and said, "I'm going to tell this to my father!" and she led the mare in the direction of the castle.

Sir Mereen waved his hand, "Let's move ahead!"

Glancing sideways at Jim Artie said, "You have a fiancée and two children, don't forget that. You can look but not touch."

Smirking to his best friend, Jim replied, "Yes dad."

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_Later, in the thrones room_

Sir Mereen, Jim, Artie and the soldiers entered the castle half an hour later using a long footbridge passing over a large and deep moat and under two barbicans. Then the six men took the drawbridge, passed the portcullis, the guardhouse and then they entered the bailey where dozens of soldiers were training – archery, sword fighting and spear throwing.

On the right side, between two square towers, Jim and Artie could see stables and soldiers enter and leave a large adjoining building which had to be the barracks.

On the left side between two other high towers there was a building housing the kitchen and sniffing the air; Artie said, "They roast pigs ..." and his stomach growled. "I'm hungry."

The knight dismounted and pointed at the wall tower built on the front of the dungeon flanked with four round towers. "Move!"

Following the knight, framed between two guards Jim and Artie entered the main room of the keep looking like a mini cathedral but at the bottom of which was placed two thrones. A man was sitting on the right throne, dressed in red clothes and wearing a crown.

Lady Helaan was standing at his side, to his right. "That's the two men I told you about, father! They hurt the dragon! It's blind now."

Moving closer, Sir Mereen put a knee to the floor covered with large stone slabs, and said, "My Lord, I captured these two men in the area where the dragon's lair is. I saw them jump from the cliff near the dragon's lair." Then he stood and looked at his prisoners. "Tell King Kelaar your names!" he commanded.

Bowing his head to the King, Jim said, "My name is James West and my partner's name is Artemus Gordon, we are not from this worl… kingdom. We are travelers… My friend needs medical attention. The dragon's fire burnt his back badly and he's suffering a lot! And he hurt himself with a piece of metal."

King Kelaar nodded. "Mintee, my personal Mage is going to take care of him, Sir James. And I will need your help. Our mighty gods sent you to me."

Furrowing his brow, intrigued, Artemus asked, "How can we help you, Sire?" Then he bowed his head in respect too, hissing with pain.

The King sighed. "My wife, Queen Mirael is very sick, Sir Artemus. She's dying, and there's only one way to heal her, to save her. We need one of the black dragon's scales, for a healing potion. As you know a dragon's scale has magic properties and only a magical remedy created from it can save my wife."

Lady Helaan nodded. "You fought the black dragon once, hurt him and survived. All the knights we sent to bring us that scale died, or almost. A few of them survived the dragon's fire but they are heavily burnt and are forced to remain in bed for the rest of their lives."

King Kelaar added, "If you bring a scale of the black dragon to me, I will grant you anything you want. But I need to tell you that a powerful sorceress is the master of this dragon and protecting it. She will heal the beast with her powers, if it is not done yet. Her name is Daviina. My wife the Queen exiled her two cycles of the moon ago far from here, to the North, to the area of Eternal Winter, after she tried to kill her the first time. She came back recently, accompanied by her pet dragon, deciding to take revenge and usurp the throne."

Helaan added, "Daviina is my aunt. She wants the throne, so she poisoned my mother in order to take it. I'm wondering where she was when you fought against the dragon, because she loves watching her dragon kill people and… eat them. You are our only hope."

Kelaar said, "I know that I can't force you to do this, but I have no other knights left, they all died. And I can't send any of my soldiers because I need them to protect the castle. Daviina has gathered a large group of mercenaries on the other side of the great forest. She plans to attack us when Mirael is dead, to claim the throne. And she will kill Helaan, Mireen and me. I can't send Mireen take one of the dragon's scales – despite his wish to fight the dragon to help his mother."

Both Jim and Artie realized two things, first, that Queen Mirael was the ruler of the kingdom second that Mireen was the King's son.

Mireen removed her close helmet with bellows visor – revealing his face and said, "But let me accompany those men, Sire," she pleaded.

Kelaar shook his head. "No," and it was a firm no. Then he said, turning to Jim and Artie, "But, as only knights can fight dragons, I'm going to knight you."

Jim and Artemus looked at each other, very surprised.

Looking at the king, Artemus said, "I need to talk to my partner first, Sire," and then he grabbed Jim's arm bringing him a little closer.

Moving aside they stopped beside a big column. Artie spoke first, "I'm not very enthusiastic about facing the dragon again, but we have to help the Queen."

Jim nodded. "Don't forget the sorceress Daviina. She could transform us into toads and the dragon would eat us as appetizers."

Grimacing in pain, Artemus said, "I know. But we can't let the Queen die, the whole family die – and this castle being taken by a hostile army. Besides, if we bring the dragon's scale the King will give us anything we want – and I'm thinking about something that we could use against Vautrain, to stay alive and eventually capture him and Loveless."

Jim nodded, "Good idea. Do you have something in mind… Sir Artemus?"

Shaking his head, Artie replied, "No, not yet…" He smiled broadly. "You know, I wanted to be a knight when I was a boy… I loved Walter Scott's historical novels. And I'm going to be knighted! Sir Artemus and Sir James… I like the sound of it. So are you ready for a new mission, noble knight?" And Jim smiled. He turned around, looking at the Royal family and said, "We accept." Having said that, Artie, feeling dizzy and weak and hurting deeply, lost consciousness and crumpled to the floor.

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_Much later_

_In Mintee's laboratory_

Mintee, an old man with white hair and a long beard, looked down at Artie's back swollen from the burns, his raw skin bubbling in places and charred in others.

He winced in sympathy. "Your friend is lucky to be here Sir James, because such burns are impossible to heal if you don't know healing magic, and I do," he said. Then he looked at his patient's bandaged right arm, noticing that the cloth was saturated with blood.

Jim sat anxiously on a simple wooden stool placed next to the bed where Artie was laid on a nest of furs, on his front and unconscious.

His partner was writhing and whimpering in pain in his sleep.

Curious, he asked, "Healing magic? Why?"

Mintee replied. "Those burns are not 'simple' burns, Sir James, they were caused by the dragon's fire and only healing magic can make them vanish."

He moved toward one of the tables covered with glass jars and containers, others made of ceramic and metal, wooden boxes of various shapes all labeled, and picked up a small golden box.

He came back next to Artie who was now twitching as he was slowly regaining consciousness, and opened it and a bright orange flame appeared.

The Mage explained, "It's a sample of dragon's fire. Thanks to magic, I keep it alive inside this box and I can command it. I use it to heal such burns. Only the dragon's fire can cure burns made by the dragon's fire. It's not the first time I've done this. Many knights came back seriously burnt. I managed to heal a few of them, but sadly, the others died in horrible suffering before I could help them." He cast a spell and then lifted his right hand and the flame left the box, levitating in the air.

The flame then wrapped itself around Mintee's fingers like a glove.

Then the old Mage chanted a spell as he touched Artie's back where the inflamed skin was blistering, and the burns vanished one after the other.

Once Artemus's back was intact again, Mintee placed the dragon's flame in its box and closed it. "There, no marks left," he said happily, sliding it into the pocket of his long purple tunic hanging loosely over his black undershirt.

Opening his eyes wide in awe, Jim breathed, "That's incredible!"

Mintee smiled. "Don't the physicians use magical healing where you come from, Sir James? By the way you didn't tell me where you come from."

It was a good question and Jim didn't know what to respond – and as the old man seemed interested in Artie's Comanche tattoo, he said, "It's a tattoo, a marking made by the insertion of indelible ink into the skin. It represents an eagle. It's a large bird of prey. It's a symbol for great strength."

The old man nodded. "It's the first time I've seen this form of body modification, and I don't know what a bird of prey is, and what an eagle is. This eagle has wings and it looks like it is a flying creature… The only creatures which are flying on this world are dragons. There are no eagles." He gave Jim a pointed look. "You're not from this world, are you?"

Embarrassed Jim responded, "No we're not." And then he explained – not giving details - to the old mage how Artie and he had ended up in his world.

Mintee was absolutely fascinated. "That Colonel Vautrain has fantastic power! He can travel in time and space just as he wants and send people wherever and whenever he wants!"

Jim nodded and added, "And he'll bring us back to our world in two days – well in less than two days now to see if we're dead, and if we're not, he'll kill us."

Suddenly Artemus started to stir and opened his eyes, he closed them straight after. Jim immediately took his best friend's hand in his. "Come on, wake up, Artie."

But Mintee shook his head. "Not yet, he's still injured and bleeding," and he removed the blood-soaked cloth from his patient's arm.

He stood, took a jar from the table, came back and opened it. "It's a healing powder," he explained and he sprinkled a little green powder on the wound. There was a flash of green light and then as it touched the skin and when it disappeared the deep gash had vanished.

Impressed Jim couldn't help but say, "It's magic!"

Mintee nodded, "Yes, exactly!" Then he frowned when he saw Artie's tattoo. Looking worried he asked, "It's a blue dragon! Why does he have a coiled blue snake-like dragon inked in his skin?"

Jim smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, he's not going to turn into a dragon, it's a body decoration, the same as the black eagle."

Not convinced, the old mage asked, "Are you sure your friend is not a dragon which took the appearance of a man to avoid being hunted and killed? It happened at least twice to my knowledge. They had a dragon-shaped mark on their body. People found out, hunted them and killed them."

Shaking his head, Jim replied, "No, he's not a dragon, Mintee. In our world dragons don't exist. He's just a man like me, that's all."

Mintee nodded. "I believe you. Are you knights in your world?"

Smiling Jim said, "No, we are special agents of the Treasury Department and we work for the President of the United States…" He paused seeing that the Mage was lost and realizing that it would be too long to explain who the President and the US were, he simply said, "Yes, we're both knights, serving our King, King Hayes of Washington."

Mintee asked, "Your kingdom is called Washington?"

Opening his eyes, Artie moaned and saw strings stretched between wooden pillars where various dried plants were hanging and blinked in confusion. "Were am I?" he asked hoarsely. He even saw spider webs and their cup-sized inhabitants.

He noticed then that someone was holding his hand and he looked up to his right, vision blurry at first until he could focus on Jim, smiling at him. "Hi, Jim. I'm not dead, right?"

Shaking his head, Jim said, "No you're not dead and your wounds have healed with the help of magic, and of Mintee here."

Looking up to his left Artie saw the old mage there, standing beside his bed. "Thank you, you saved my life, Mintee."

He propped himself on his elbows before moving to a sitting position, his whole body sore, then he glanced around him, loving the mage's den, all the tables were covered with glass jars and containers, with others made of ceramic and metal, wooden boxes of various shapes all labeled. The walls were hidden behind bookcases almost reaching the vaulted ceiling, which were full of books and scrolls. "I love it!" He said.

He stood, Jim helping him and he glanced at his right bicep where the arrow head had injured him. There was no trace left of it. Then he ran the back of his hand on his back, finding the skin smooth again. "Thank you again, Mintee."

Curious Jim asked, "Was Queen Mirael injured by the dragon?" And he saw the old man shake his head. "What happened to her?"

Mintee sighed. "The Queen was hunting when she was hit by an arrow loosed by a knight working for princess Daviina. The arrow head was poisoned with the black dragon's blood, and only a potion made with one of the black dragon's scales can heal her, save her." He turned around, picked up a pile of clothes, plus a pair of boots sitting on a chair and offered them to Artemus. "These are for you."

Jim smiled. "The two piece long underwear with long legs and long sleeves made in a flannel-like fabric is fantastic, you'll see."

Grabbing the pile of clothes, Artie Looked up and down at Jim dressed in a red waist-length shirt with an upright collar edged with gold, with black pants and black boots. He'd be dressed like him. "Thank you, Mintee," he said and pulled off his ripped and partially burnt short underwear.

Mintee observed Artemus's naked with a scientific curiosity and Artie, who didn't mind being naked among people noticed it. He pulled on the lower part of the warm and soft underwear and asked, "Why are you interested by my anatomy?"

Mintee smiled and replied, "I know that you are not from this world, so I wanted to know if your anatomy is the same as ours, and it is the same."

Sitting on the bed, Artemus took one of the grayish wooly socks and said, "You didn't see Jim when he took off his underwear?"

It was Jim who responded, "Mintee wasn't arrived in his lab yet… but Lady Helaan surprised me when I was naked."

Rolling his eyes, Artie shook his head then he said, "Why am I not surprised? And he mouthed, so that Mintee could hear it, 'You always have the girl,' and he put on his sock.

All of a sudden, the door opened as four soldiers stepped in, holding two complete set of knights' gear entered the room struggling under their weight.

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Looking at his reflection in the big mirror, Jim said, "This thing weighs a ton! How am I going to move with that thing?"

On top of his long underwear he was wearing different pieces made in chainmail, one covering his head like a hood, one covering his upper body from his shoulders to his knees, one protecting his legs and ending mid-calf and he had chainmail-mittens 'armoring' his hands. On top of his 'shirt' he had put on a padded garment ending at the waist worn for additional defense.

Dressed like a middle-age knight too, Artie said, "Chainmail is heavy, yes, but it has many advantages, Jim. It's flexible, easy to fit men of all sizes, and it allows ease of movement and it provides protection against being cut by the opponents' blade – or dragon's claws.

Not convinced, Jim pulled on his knee-length shirt made of chainmail and said, "It didn't protect the knights sent by the King very well. They all died or almost all."

Looking at his reflection in the big mirror too, Artie nodded and replied, "They wore plate armor, and plate armor is heavy and it restrains the movements."

Mintee who was standing beside the two men said, "Sir Artemus is right, that's why I asked the King to give you this flexible armor. It will be easier for you to fight the dragon dressed in chainmail." He moved over to Jim and reached out, giving him his helmet, which was provided with a chainmail collar which hung from the bottom of it, and was designed to protect the neck.

He gave Artie his helmet too and he added, "The King wants to talk to you before you go." Then he gave them their scabbards and swords. "He wants to show you the Queen."

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_Much later_

Jim dismounted his horse, and then he looked around him. There was a path through the dense forest so thick that the sunlight couldn't pierce through, leading to the dragon's lair, which looked intact. There was no trace or burn trees. "I don't like this," he said.

Dismounting his own 'destrier', Artie replied, "Me neither. The whole forest was burning when we escaped, burnt by the dragon."

Grabbing his shield hanging from his saddle, the younger man said, "I know what happened, the sorceress used her magic to give it back its original appearance, and she healed the dragon's eyes too. It's going to be mad at us."

Protecting his left side with his own shield, Artie smiled. "It was mad at us before. It's going to be even more furious than before." He grabbed the spear he had attached to the trappings of his white stallion. "Let's find that dragon!"

Less enthusiastic than his partner, Jim pulled out his sword from his scabbard and gripped it tight in his hand. He said, "Daviina could be there waiting for us like the King suggested, Artie, for revenge, we hurt her pet dragon! She could be more dangerous than the beast!"

Heading toward the edge of the forest Artemus said, "I know, but we can't refuse this mission, the survival of the queen depends on our success."

Nodding Jim said, "Yes, I know, but I have a bad feeling about this…" And then he joined his best friend in the forest.

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_Later_

Piles of steaming poo filled with bloodied bones and pieces of burned flesh and a multitude of clawed fresh footprints, welcomed the two 'knights in shining armor' in the clearing located in front of the gaping mouth of a cave, big enough for the dragon to enter, set in the side of a cliff.

Moving closer to Artie, every sense on alert for danger, Jim whispered, "And now? Do you have a plan?" Then he glanced around him, ready to use his sword.

Nodding his head, Artie said, "Yes, find the dragon, take one of its scale and go back to the castle with it – without getting ripped apart."

Looking around him warily Jim said, "I should have asked Mintee to protect us with a spell…" and almost face-palmed himself. "I'm an idiot." He added, before closing the visor of his helmet.

He had just said that, when they heard the loud but distant woosh of large wings coming from above them and saw the dragon flying above them high in the sky.

Focused on the beast making circles amidst the big clouds, they didn't notice a middle-aged woman exiting the dragon's cave.

Daviina smiled and using her left hand, she traced intricate patterns through the air in front of her before casting a powerful spell.

Once it was over – the helmets, chainmail, etc. plus the clothes and weapons vanished and Jim and Artie found themselves naked and defenseless.

Both men gasped in total surprise and heard a soft, mocking laugh. They turned around to see a woman dressed in black clothes, with long grayish hair and holding a long stick surmounted by an orange gemstone which moved in their direction.

Spotting a broken spear on the ground, Jim grabbed it in a flash and then he moved into an attack position, making Daviina's smile widen.

Chuckling, the sorceress cast a new spell and Jim was instantly frozen. He tried to move but couldn't as his whole body was paralyzed.

Moving one hand to hide his private parts, Artemus tightened his other hand into a solid fist, in a futile – and he knew it - attempt to protect himself. He did it nevertheless.

Daviina moved closer, her black eyes roaming over Jim's naked body before perusing Artemus from head to toe. "Interesting!" she said as she noticed Artie's dragon tattoo.

She cast a new spell… and Artie was forced to move onto his knees by an invisible force, and then had to open his arms. He couldn't speak either.

The older man couldn't do anything as the sorceress fingered the beautiful coiled blue snake-like dragon inked into his skin, following its blue-scaled body, up and down, almost caressing it. "It's the first time I have seen such a body decoration… and it's a beautiful dragon of a species I don't recognize. Strange. I know all kinds of dragons of this world. What's the purpose of this? Is it some kind of magical protection against dragons? Did it protect you when you attacked my dragon? Hmm. That could explain how you managed to flee and survive…" She raised her prisoner's chin and saw no fear in the knight's eyes, only defiance. "You're different from the other knights who came here in order to kill my dragon…" She licked Artie's stubbled cheeks and then added, "And you taste different too… It's intriguing."

Hearing a roar, Daviina lifted her eyes to the sky and saw the dragon approaching, swooping low, ready to land in the clearing and she said, "Drakstil is a female dragon. She's lonely since she killed and ate her last companion after laying her eggs. He was I knight, like you… before I used magic to transform him into a male dragon. Male dragons are very rare. So I did this for her, as she wanted to have offsprings."

Drakstil landed with a massive thud and the ground quaked and then she moved toward the two helpless knights, growling angrily, recognizing them, issuing smoke from her nostrils, unfolding her massive black bat-like wings and waving her tail.

Raising her long stick, Daviina said, "Calm down, Drakstil." She pointed at Jim with a sinister grin. "You will kill and then eat this one, soon," and looking at Artie she added, "And him too, but later. I think he's going to make a good companion for you."

The black female dragon took a couple of steps toward a terrified Artemus and lowered her head and sniffed at the human's body – and huffed.

Daviina lifted her stick again. "I'm not surprised you're not loving him, he's still a human. But soon he'll be a dragon, just like you." She smiled when she saw complete and utter terror in Artemus's eyes and addressing the older man she added, "You will of course be under my total control once a dragon – the dragon you have inked in your arm. I find it so beautiful."

She cast a new spell – very powerful magic - and the gem topping her stick lit up and a vivid orange glow suddenly enveloped Artemus's naked body.

Daviina glanced at her pet dragon and then watched Artie's transformation start. "I'm sure you're going to like him," and she chuckled when Artie yanked his head back with a scream of pain… as a reptilian tongue flickered between his elongating teeth.

Every muscle, joint, and bone in his body morphed into something else… His bones broke and reformed into dragon feet, his body grew bigger, larger, it changed shape too. Blue scales appeared on his pale skin, small wings burst through the bone-spiked skin of his back.

Artemus howled in atrocious pain.

Drakstil curled her tail and cocked her head to the side, studying Artie as he became a dark-blue dragon with two spiraled horns on top of his massive head and his scales brightening to light blue like the softer hide of his neck and belly.

Daviina broke the spell immobilizing Artemus before moving back.

In was a matter of a few minutes before Artemus was completely morphed into the giant living replica of the tattoo he had on his arm.

Curious, Drakstil reached out her left foot, claw extended and 'touched' the blue dragon's head, black bone pikes in all shapes and sizes covering it and trailing down his spine to the end of his long tail.

But the 130 foot long blue dragon with a 30 foot girth, larger than Drakstil snarled, baring his massive and sharp teeth and clawed the black dragon's foot… and Drakstil briefly grunted and… then she purred, finding the male beautiful.

Daviina smiled. "Transformation complete… Now I'm going to cast a new spell and then you will obey me, the same as Drakstil does."

The two dragons observed each other. Drakstil was smaller than dragon-Artie, but much stockier. She moved closer and sniffed the male dragon.

Daviina smiled. "You find him beautiful, don't you?"

Drakstil growled in agreement.

Not interested – and very angry to say the least - dragon-Artemus reared up on his hind legs and then flexed his giant wings, black smoke rising from his nostrils, his eyes flashing red. He snapped his teeth twice threateningly at the sorceress while he slammed his spiked tail down onto the ground.

Then he roared and shot a bolt of flames at Daviina who, in a split-second threw out a hand, casting a protection spell.

Flames were absorbed by the green light force-field enveloping the sorceress.

Hissing, dragon-Artemus let out another roar, flames following, then he wrapped his foot around Jim's immobile body in a vice-tight grip, but careful not to hurt him, and then he bent his legs, and shot upwards into the air, flying off, his large wings flapping loudly, carrying the human higher and higher, farther and farther away from Drakstil and Daviina.

Drakstil groaned angrily watching the blue dragon disappearing into the darkening clouds and Daviina calmed her down placing her hand on the dragon's nose and rubbing it softly. "Shhhh… he didn't hurt me, and he'll come back. I don't need him to be in front of me to cast a spell… making of him my second pet dragon and your mate, Drakstil. I'm going to let them stay together for a while before finally separating them… The blue dragon will kill and eat his former friend, and then he'll head back here."

She cast another spell – and Jim 'unfroze' and a few seconds later he screamed in terror realizing that the blue dragon had his claws wrapped around his body.

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Clinging to the beast's hard scaled foot, Jim closed his eyes, feeling nauseous, his stomach moving to his throat as they were climbing higher and higher in the dark sky emitting threatening loud roars which were lost in the loud rumble of the thunderstorm.

But Drakstil wasn't following them. Once he was sure of that, the blue dragon headed westward, flying above the large, billowing clouds.

It rained a lot and thunder rolled in the distance as the fabulous creature began to circle over the top of a hill with sparse vegetation cropped up here and there – not far from the paved road leading to Queen Mirael's castle and then it landed gracefully, on one leg, dropping Jim to the rain soaked grass.

Moving on all fours, his whole body shaking, Jim gagged and emptied his stomach on the ground, between his hands until there was nothing left but stomach bile.

Feeling as weak as a newborn kitten, shaking madly, Jim finally looked up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and found dragon-Artie staring down at him.

A low rumble came from the human-turned-dragon's throat, making Jim whimper. He begged, "Please don't eat me!" while looking straight into the beast's glowing, crimson red eyes which were slit like a cats. "Please, please," he whispered. "I don't taste good! if you eat me, you'll be sick, have an upset stomach," he added. And he did a quick survey of his body to see if he was bleeding, the smell of blood making him even more appetizing, but his flesh was intact.

Cocking his spike-covered head, dragon-Artie sort of laughed in amusement (it was a low rumbling sound) and he snorted, sending a hiss of smoke up into the air, enveloping Jim in it, making the human cough, and then the blue dragon lowered his head, so that the two were at eye level. Then he gently rubbed his pointed snout against his best friend's upper body.

Still coughing, Jim calmed down as he finally realized that the fantastic beast was in fact dragon-Artemus and that the winged and scaled creature wouldn't harm a single hair of his head. "Good dragon!" he said, smiling and then he patted the dragon's muzzle. "Can you talk? Dragons talk in tales." In response dragon-Artie shook his head and Jim asked, "Can you understand me?"

The blue dragon sat on its haunches and wound his long tail around his hind legs. Then he nodded and let out a soft growl.

His brow burrowed in deep concern, Jim then asked, "That means yes. Are you okay, Artie? Because being a dragon must not be easy to cope with…"

Dragon-Artie didn't know how to say that he was coping – it wasn't the first time he had been turned into something non-human, like a cat and a merman for example - and he opened his jaws, his breath smelling of fire, smoke and sulfur – before using the tip of his long serpentine tongue to lick Jim's head as his tail twitched like a cat's.

Disgusted, Jim grimaced and used his hands to remove the smelly gooey saliva covering his hair and dripping on his face. "Yuck! It's disgusting!" And he gagged on the stench. He swallowed bile and said to the massive, hulking beast, "Never do that again! Ever!" Then he grinned in relief. "I'm glad you're okay, buddy. Praise be for your great sense of adaptation."

Dragon-Artie growled in response.

Jim stood, his legs still trembling then gave the creature an affectionate pat on his warm muzzle. Then he took a couple of steps back and he began to circle Dragon-Artie slowly, scrutinizing him intensely, absolutely fascinated by the creature that was not supposed to exist.

In our world, not in this one, he added in his mind.

Once his survey of the blue dragon was over, he stopped in front of the beast's large spiky head with a maw that could swallow him whole, he realized, flinching unintentionally.

He grinned and then said, "Artie, buddy, you're a beautiful dragon!" He chuckled when he saw the creature wave his tail in pleasure. He sighed, changing mood abruptly and he frowned in concern. "What are we going to do now?" he asked.

Suddenly Jim saw a big black scale belonging to Drakstil embedded in one of the large beast's claws sharp as knives. "Good job, Artie! Now lift your foot!" And dragon-Artie lifted his great foot from the ground, claw extended. Once he was holding the scale of the black dragon in one hand, he petted one large blue scale between the creature's nostrils and then he added, "Stay here! Wait for me. I'm sure Mintee knows a way to de-dragon you. Don't go back there to try to capture Daviina! She'll put a spell on you and you would become her second pet dragon."

The blue-scaled dragon snorted in agreement.

Jim chuckled and then said, "I preferred when you were a cat! It was a lot more easy to pet you," and stark naked, he ran down the hill.

But dragon-Artie didn't want to stay on top of the hill waiting for Jim to come back. He unfolded his massive wings, flapped them tossing the bushes to and fro and flew away.

Soon after he let out a long roar yelling in joy at the thrill of flying spiraling higher and higher in the sky, flying above the thunderstorm, and looked up to the stars.

He headed then toward the other side of the forest where Daviina's mercenaries waited for her signal to march to the castle.

Destroying their camp should be enough to disband them, Artemus-dragon thought, as his huge serpentine body silhouetted against the light of the thunderbolts.

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_Much later_

Dragon-Artemus came back at sunset - although it was impossible to see the sun as the thunderstorm was still raging - taking the nose dive down and landing smoothly on top of the hill. Above him the thunder rumbled, and lightning flickered in the stormy sky.

He folded his wings to his body tightly, smoke billowing from his nostrils, satisfied with what he had done – all the mercenaries had fled utterly terrified, in all directions mounting their horses, after he had destroyed all the siege engines including scaling ladders; battering rams; siege towers and various types of weapons such as trebuchets, ballistas, bombards and battering rams.

They were all gone as well as the tents where they kept their individual weapons. He had chased them for a while across the fields, woods and rivers, spitting bolts of fire... and loving it!

He waited patiently under pouring rain, curled up nose to tail – sliding on his waterproof scales - before Jim came back holding a torch.

He was dressed in soaked knight clothes and mounted on a horse, and was followed by Mintee, equally soaked, riding a horse too.

The Mage was holding a long stick, like Daviina, but unlike the sorceress's stick, which was straight the wood spiraled and a big sapphire was at the end of it, a blue light emanating from it, he noticed.

Dismounting, the two men moved toward dragon-Artemus, Jim feeling more comfortable than the Mage even if he knew who the dragon was.

Dragon-Artie stood and lowered his massive head toward Jim. He huffed a small cloud of smoke and his best friend.

Holding his flickering torch, the younger man couldn't help but scratch under the mighty beast's neck like he would do to a cat and dragon-Artie purred like one, "Good dragon!" then he added, "We're lucky! Mintee is as powerful as Daviina, and he knows how to break the spell which turned you into a dragon, and he's going to do it."

But before the old man could do anything – an orange glow enveloped the winged creature and dragon-Artie roared, his vertical slit pupils, dilating.

It disappeared shortly after and the dragon opened his maw wide, revealing a series of long, sharp fangs dripping with saliva, his reptilian eyes riveted on his… prey.

Knowing what had just happened Jim felt his blood freeze in his veins and he moved back in a hurry, "Daviina just took control of dragon-Artie, and it's not good…" He looked at the Mage and said, "I'll get his attention, meanwhile cast the counter spell!"

Mintee's mouth went dry. He nodded and ran as quickly as he could in the opposite direction and took refuge behind a group of bushes.

Gripping the torch, Jim waved it in front of the now non-friendly creature and said, "You want to eat me? Then try to catch me!" And he ran in the opposite direction, hurtling down the gentle slope of the hill… dragon-Artie following him, his maw wide open, showing rows of long, razor-sharp teeth.

Mintee started casting a spell which would free Artemus from Daviina's mind control, then when the dragon was harmless again, not threatening Sir James anymore – and he too - he would cast a second spell transforming Sir Artemus into a man.

Running for his life as fast as his feet could carry him on the squishy wet ground, Jim accelerated but the creature was gaining speed and flying low, ready to snatch him up in his deadly claws.

The formidable beast growled like thunder as his huge claws slashing down through the air, missed the human by inches.

Jim spotted a group of big rocks forming a small and narrow passage, a few feet to his right, and dropping his torch to the ground, he rushed there, where he could be sheltered from the dragon, he thought.

He leaped inside as the dragon was closing-in on him, sliding on his belly on the soaked grass until he ended up in semi-darkness surrounded by boulders, hearing the dragon flapping his wings just above him and giving a bellowing roar in frustration.

Looking up through a narrow crack above him, his heart in his throat, he panicked when he saw that the dragon was ready to release a huge jet of fire. The dragon couldn't rip him apart with its claws here, but he could burn him alive! he realized.

He closed his eyes, thinking, "I'm going to be burned alive with dragon's fire!" and… nothing happened. He reopened his eyes and saw nothing but a blue glow. "Mintee!" He said.

Mintee had used magic!

He crawled out of the tight passage between the large rocks and looked around him cautiously. Maybe Mintee's spell had failed. Maybe the dragon still wanted to eat him, he thought.

But he couldn't see any dragon anywhere, so he stood and… froze, fear paralyzing him when he heard a low growl.

After a few seconds he slowly turned around, thinking 'It's gonna eat me!' and found himself face to face with the blue-scaled winged creature which was perched on the boulders.

The dragon opened his jaws, teeth exposed and… stuck his tongue out, to lick Jim's head with affection, his tail thumping happily.

Finding his head covered with gooey saliva again, Jim's heart leaped in huge relief. He grinned and then he exclaimed, "Artie! You're back!"

The dragon nodded and continued moving his tail happily.

Jim wrinkled his nose and gagged. The smell was unbearable. "Gaah! You should brush your teeth, buddy!" and removed the dragon's saliva from his face with both hands.

Mintee was finishing the spell which would morph Artemus back to his original form when Jim and dragon-Artie suddenly vanished in a bright white light.

Tbc.


	4. Act Three

**THE NIGHT OF THE BLUE DRAGON**

**By Andamogirl**

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**ACT THREE**

_In Colonel Vautrain's manor_

_In the parlor room_

Jim and Dragon-Artie materialized a few seconds later in front of Colonel Vautrain and Dr. Loveless frozen in stunned silence and terror.

They staggered for a few seconds, disoriented.

Then lowering his massive head toward the two men, both stunned, Artie opened his teeth-filled maw, saliva dripping to the carpet and growled.

Seeing a revolver in the former Confederate officer's hand, Jim seized the opportunity to grab it and, pointing it at the ex-Colonel, he said, "It's really a dragon, you're not seeing things!"

A split second later, Loveless let out a strangled shriek and dropped to the floor on his knees, and then rolled in a ball, absolutely terrified.

Fear gripping his heart, Vautrain imitated him, the blood draining from his face.

Hands on their heads in a protective position, their bodies shaking, they didn't see Dragon-Artie being suddenly enveloped in a blue glow and begin to change.

Little by little the beast disappeared but the transformation abruptly halted half-way, leaving Artie a bulky half-dragon, half-human creature.

Looking at his best friend up and down, Jim saw that Artemus had regained his normal size, but light-blue scales decorated the lower part of his body, bone spikes ran along his spine, down to the end of his dark-blue tail, and he had leathery wings tucked in at his back. Dragon's claws replaced his fingers and toes. His eyes weren't red anymore, but dark brown and his pupils slotted, reptile-like and two small spiraled horns topped his head.

Confused Jim asked, "What happened?" then he remembered the blue glow and knew what happened. Mintee's spell had been interrupted by their sudden disappearance – leaving Artie stuck between being a dragon and a human.

Paling, Artie surveyed his hybrid body and rasped, "No, I can't stay like this…"

Looking up at the hybrid creature standing in front of him, Vautrain offered, "I can help…" and gulped when he saw the man-dragon spread his leathery wings and bare his long, white fangs.

His slit chocolate eyes flashing, Artie snorted out a tiny flame, "How?' he asked, his voice low and gravelly and inhuman, making the other man flinch.

Raising a peaceful hand Vautrain said, "I think a spell went wrong… You should have become human again, am I right?"

Looking at the ex-Colonel Jim said, "You're right, Vautrain and there's only one way to solve the problem. Send us back where we came from. I advise you to do so otherwise..." Artemus took a deep inhale and a ball of fire came out of his mouth.

The wall behind Loveless and Vautrain was charred and crumbled into ashes.

He had just said that, when a door opened and two men appeared next to what was left of the smoldering wall and they gaped, jaw dropped and blinked, blinked again seeing the hybrid creature, and then they pulled out their guns

Immediately Artemus snarled at them.

Loveless glanced at his henchmen and said, "Kill it!" and the two minions obeyed.

In a flash, Jim pointed his gun at the two goons and fired – pulling the trigger at the same time the goons did, and two bullets hit Artemus.

Loveless's henchmen collapsed to the floor, dead and Artie dropped like a stone at Vautrain's feet, howling in pain.

Placing the end of the Colt's barrel against Vautrain's head, Jim said, "Send us back into that other world," and he grabbed the other man's collar. "And you're coming with us!"

Nodding, Vautrain said, "Alright!" He gathered his power, closed his eyes, and… Jim and Artemus vanished in thin air, but he stayed in the parlor room.

Loveless grunted. "You let them escape! Gordon is going to die there!"

Standing, Vautrain replied, "In a world where magic exists?" He flattened the creases of his sleeves with his hand and said, "I'm sure that some mage or sorcerer will heal his wounds. He'll live. And I can bring them back whenever I want. I'm not in a hurry. I'll give them a little more time to have fun ... and before I kill them, I'll ask them to tell me their story, it looks fascinating."

Loveless wasn't happy about that.

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_Back in the other world_

Kneeling beside Artemus, Jim said, "Everything's going to be alright Artie!" and he pressed his hands on the bleeding wounds. "We're back! Mintee is going to heal you with his magic."

He looked around him ready to call the Mage and saw him approaching, moving as quickly as possible as fast as his old legs could move him forward.

Mintee said, "I was going to end the spell when you vanished into thin air!"

He was both very surprised and fascinated by the dragon-man lying at his feet, then he saw all the blood covering Sir Artemus's chest and frowned, intrigued, seeing the two bleeding holes. "What kind of wounds are those?" He asked as he had never seen bullet wounds before.

Deeply worried, Jim responded, "Later, Mintee! Do something or he's going to die!'

Mintee nodded. He waved his hand in intricate patterns, said a few words in a secret language and said, "It's done."

Moving his hands away from Artie's chest, Jim saw that the bullet holes had vanished. He sighed in relief and sat on the wet ground. "Thank you."

Moving to a sitting position, wings half-spread, Artemus looked down at his blood-matted chest and ran one hand over his lightly hairy chest. "They're gone."

He stood and patted Mintee's shoulder. "Thank you. Now you have to complete the spell, making a human of me again."

The old man shook his head. "I can't do that. Now that Sir Artemus is a hybrid creature, I have to find a spell suited to his special case to do that. But be reassured, I will find one." His clothes soaked, and the rain still pouring, he added, "Let's go back to the castle, we'll talk about that later. The Queen wants to thank you both for having saved her."

Jim nodded. "Can Daviina take back control of Artemus?" He asked.

Mintee shook his head. "As he's not a dragon anymore, no, she can't. But using a specific spell she can control anybody."

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_Queen Mirael's castle_

_Later in Jim and Artie's room_

Leaving Mintee's lab, Jim headed toward the 'apartment' that the Queen (healed thanks to the potion Mintee had made with the scale of the black dragon), had provided for them, into the dungeon. Artemus was still sleeping when he had left a few minutes before. Dragons were like cats, they slept during the day and 'lived' (hunted) at night, he thought.

But the bedroom with the twin beds was empty when he entered the room, and at it was dusk, he knew where to find Artie and he took a lantern from the table.

He found his best friend sitting on a merlon, staring at the horizon. Artemus had his wings folded in his back and he was waving his spiked tail, his clawed feet dangling over the edge of the high dungeon, 100 feet above the ground. He noticed that his best friend, to be decent, had made himself a Comanche breechcloth out of brown leather, tightened at the waist by a belt.

It wasn't raining anymore he realized, but the air was cool and damp and a thick fog was enveloping the area around the castle and further away the fields and forests too.

Jim sat the lantern at his feet, leaned against the next merlon beside his partner, and said, "The Queen and the King invited us to dinner, remember?"

Shoulders dropped, eyes riveted to the horizon, Artemus replied, "I'm not hungry," but his stomach growled signaling the opposite.

Jim nodded. "You needn't go to that dinner if you don't want to. They will understand. Placing a comforting hand on his best friend's shoulder, he said, "Mintee is searching in his books and scrolls for the right spell to de-hybrid you, and as he has a large room filled with them and no assistant to help him, it's going to take quite some time to find the right one, but he is certain to find it, he told me."

Nodding, Artie-dragon replied, "And if he doesn't find anything, Jim?" He turned toward his best friend and, his brown slited pupils, focused on his partner, he added, "I'm going to stay like this, half-human, half-dragon, breathing fire, until I die - and God knows when. If I inherited the dragon's lifespan, it won't be until many centuries have passed, Jim." He paused. "If we survive after Vautrain brings us back next time, and I said 'if' because he'd take precautions to eliminate us as soon as possible to avoid another unpleasant surprise - drastically reducing our chances of survival, my life as it was before will stop. I will have to live hidden in a cave, feeding on raw meat, stealing and killing sheep and calves in the heart of the night so as not to be seen, and if someone sees me one day, I'd be hunted and slaughtered like a demonic creature – because I look like one."

Sitting on an embrasure, Jim nodded. "Being pessimistic doesn't sound like you. Where is the optimistic Artemus Gordon I know?"

His stomach rumbling loudly, Artie-dragon said, "I am realistic, that's all. I hope Mintee will find a way to make a human of me again, or I'd have to ask him to turn me into a proper dragon, I'm sure he can, it's better than to be…" He heaved a long sigh, exhaling a puff of white smoke. "To be a monster." Unfolding his large bat-like wings, he added, "Tell the Queen and the King I'm sorry, but I'm not going to attend the royal dinner."

He threw himself from the top of the dungeon and flew away in the dusky red-orange-colored sky, rapidly flying up through the clouds.

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_The next morning_

Moaning, Jim blinked open his heavy eyelids, his mouth pasty and his tongue thick. He winced as a painful headache was pounding in his head. He felt a little groggy and nauseous.

He squinted against the light and wrinkled his nose smelling grilled fish. "What'sthatsmell?" His words slurred together. "Ow! I've got a killer headache!" he mumbled.

He propped himself on his elbows, after two attempts, and saw Artemus-dragon perched on the bedpost at the end of the bed, his wings folded, looking like a bird of prey. "Morning," he rasped. His tongue was thick in his mouth.

Smiling, Artie said, "Hangover?" Then he added, "I can smell alcohol on your breath from here. All my senses are 1000 times sharper than before."

Moving to a sitting position on a nest of blankets and furs, Jim realized that he was still dressed – and had probably passed out drunk in his bed, and he replied, "Yes, I drank too much local alcohol… when you drink it, it's like water. It's sweet, fruity and you do not realize that it's very alcoholic. It's very potent." Once sitting on the bed he asked, "Speaking of smell; you smell of grilled fish."

Artemus-dragon nodded. "I know. I was hungry last night so I found a lake, captured lots of fish and grilled them before eating them." He opened his mouth, fire glowing within. "Spitting fire is very convenient for grilling." Then he chuckled. "It's funny, right?"

Feeling immensely relieved, Jim said, "If you're kidding it's because you're better and I'm very happy about that. What happened?"

Rubbing his jaw with his knuckles, Artie-dragon replied, "I realized that after having been transformed into a cat, a woman, a child, twice and into a merman and into an extraterrestrial creature, everything had ended well, I looked like my old self and I thought that this story wouldn't be exempt from this general rule." He grinned and added, "I felt better and I devoured tons of grilled fish!"

Smiling Jim asked, "What? No sheep? No cows? I thought dragons loved raw meat and plucked cattle from their pens?"

Shaking his head, Artemus-dragon responded, "Not me, I prefer my meals cooked and I'm only half-dragon. Besides killing livestock is a bad idea. Sheep and cows belong to people. They need them for milk and wool and for meat too. The lake is full of fish and they don't belong to anyone."

Rubbing his stubbled jawline Jim nodded. "That's true." He stood and stretched, yawning. "They don't have coffee but there's a barber here, at least."

He padded toward the big bathtub sculpted out of a dark gray stone and opened the metallic tap. "Middle Ages with running water, it's a plus! Even if it's rainwater collected in rudimentary plumbing," he said, noticing that the pouring rain outside was pounding against the window and the grumbling of distant thunder. "No rain, no water. Fortunately it rains a lot here. Mintee told me that rainstorms can be relentless for days, even for weeks. Same thing with thunderstorms."

Looking through the window at the gray curtain of rain Artie-dragon said, "Hmm, that explains why the vegetation is so lush."

Jim undressed and naked, said, "Oh! And Mintee told me too that he had gone through half of his texts already, and didn't find anything, yet."

Trustful of the Mage's vast magical knowledge, he had written the spell somewhere, Artie-dragon said, "He will, I'm sure."

Jim opened a trunk, pulling out clean clothes he placed on a table. Then, from a shelf he took a towel, a washcloth and a piece of soap.

He dipped his hand in the water and said, "Brrr! It's cold."

Nodding, Artie-dragon said, "They won't invent the boiler for several hundred years, but I can help!" He leaped graciously from the bedpost to the edge of the big bathtub, flapping his wings and using his dragon fire, he heated the water half filling the tub.

Sitting in it, Jim splashed his upper body with the hot water and sighed in pleasure, "The heat is just perfect. Thank you, Artie."

Bowing his head, Artemus-dragon replied, "It's a pleasure." His eyes closing with tiredness, he said, "Enjoy your bath, I'm going to sleep."

He yawned, showing his sharp, pointed teeth as his eyes grew heavy. He moved toward the large fireplace located in front of the two beds. The embers were almost cold.

He took two logs, put them in the hearth and let out a jet of fire – leaving nothing but ashes behind. "Oops! I need to control that…" He put two other logs in the heath and slowly breathed fire, gently igniting the wood, and big flames began to crackle. He smiled. "Better!"

Jim chuckled. "It's really practical!"

Smiling, Artemus-dragon lay on his stomach, his head on the pillow, his wings spread, tail curled and a few seconds later he was asleep and snoring loudly, smoke puffing out of his nostrils.

In his bath Jim rubbed the bar of soap against the washcloth and then he began covering his arms and torso with bubbles.

Half an hour later, Jim left the vast room, he was dressed and his hair combed. He had an appointment with the barber because he needed to be shaved.

He glanced at Artemus-dragon still asleep on his bed and snoring loudly and smiled, "Sleep tight Artie", and then he headed toward the door.

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_Later_

Daviina materialized silently next to the bed where dragon-Artie was sleeping snorting smoke from his nostrils and she observed the hybrid creature with great interest.

She recognized the knight she had transformed into a blue dragon and murmured, "I cast a spell to appear next to the blue dragon… and what do we have here? A hybrid. Part man, part dragon. She reached out and brushed against the bone spikes that ran along the length of the human-dragon's spine. "Did old Mintee cast the wrong spell to turn you into a man again? Whatever happened, You're a beautiful creature… and unique." She had a greedy smile. "And like dragons, I love rare and precious things."

She lifted her hand up and traced a circle in the air in front of her… and then a circle of magical green light materialized around Artie-dragon, immobilizing him.

Sleeping soundly Artie-dragon didn't wake.

Daviina smiled broadly. "Perfect! Now let's join Drakstil," and then she used magic again, and a split second later Artemus-dragon and she vanished.

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Drakstil was chewing her tenth sheep when Daviina appeared not far from her, and she noticed her mistress was accompanied by a strange winged creature.

She dropped what was left of the ruminant animal to the bloodied ground and licked blood from her claws with her long lizard-like tongue.

Then she burped and lowered her head toward the 'thing', which looked like half a human and half one of her kind, nostrils flaring, sniffing at it, curiously.

The sorceress rubbed her pet dragon's scaled muzzle. "Do you like him?"

Drakstil nuzzled the blue pale flesh and the blue scales of the strange creature's body and… let out a low confused rumble, recognizing the faint scent of the blue dragon which had scratched her before flying off with the human that she was ready to kill and eat - but not recognizing it.

Daviina nodded recognizing the dragon's puzzled expression and she said, "Mintee cast the wrong spell to 'de-dragon' him and he ended up like this, a hybrid. I wanted the two of you to have dragon offspring, but having babies with human characteristics is far better. They will be born in eggs, so you can lay dozens in a short time and thanks to magic I will turn them into adults, and they will serve me as formidable warriors. In just a few cycles, I will reign over all the kingdoms!"

With a groan and a puff of smoke Artemus-dragon woke up and couldn't help but cry out in fear – and a jet of flames - as he discovered Drakstil's head above him.

Flames ricocheted on the black dragon's muzzle… and Drakstil purred, loving it.

Daviina patted her dragon's head. "I'm going to transform you into a hybrid creature… but before that I need to cast a spell to control your future mate."

WWW

_Later in Queen Mirael's castle_

_In Jim's and Artie's apartment_

Mintee raised his hand and closed his eyes. "I can sense tendrils of vanishing magical energy…" He looked at Jim and added, "Daviina was here and I'm afraid to tell you this, but she took Sir Artemus with her. We have to find him before she does something to him."

Frowning in deep worry, Jim asked, "Can you explain to me what you mean by 'something'? Like turning Artie into a dragon again?"

The Mage nodded. "I'm sure it's her intention. She did once, and she'll do it again. She wants a second pet dragon. She killed all our knights, except the Prince, with Drakstil, and with the blue dragon she'll be unstoppable if she attacks the castle and she will now that her 'army' is gone."

Imagining two dragons attacking the castle with bolts of flames and killing dozens of people, Jim said, "I have to do something!"

Mintee nodded. "If you go the dragon's lair, where Daviina probably is, she'll capture you and turn you into a dragon. I have to protect you from her, and I have an idea how to do that – thanks to magic I'm going to make you invisible and undetectable. Daviina won't see you and won't 'feel you'. Those are simple spells, I don't need to consult my books or scrolls to cast them."

Impatient, Jim said, "Alright, cast those spells now! I'm ready."

The old man nodded. "If you need to leave in a hurry, just say 'Mintee bring me back!' and I will bring you back here at – and if you find Sir Artemus, which I hope, hold onto him, and it will work too. I will bring the two of you back here. In the meantime I'm going to continue to search for the spell which will make your friend human again" Then he cast the spells.

Jim became invisible and vanished.

WWW

_Meantime, in the dragon's lair_

Drakstil looked down at her reflection in the mirror which Daviina by using magic had materialized in her hand. "You are beautiful."

Her hand shaking, Drakstil used her knuckles to touch the pale flesh of her face and neck freed from scales, scales which covered the rest of her stocky yet curvy body, and then she ran a clawed hand through the long dark curly hair falling onto her shoulders.

Drakstil unfolded her wings which looked like they were too big for the rest of her body and twitched her shorter tail in irritation.

She let out a low growl of displeasure, puffs of smoke coming out of her nostrils. She wasn't a dragon anymore and not a human either but something in between.

She was weak, frail, and vulnerable like her prey and she hated it!

Daviina made the mirror vanish and then she cast a new spell and a few seconds later she said, "You can talk now, go on!"

Shifting on her new, weak legs, Drakstil hesitated and said, with a throaty voice, "I can speak…" And she was amazed.

Smiling, the sorceress nodded. "Yes you can, Drakstil." And then she pointed at Artemus-dragon whom she had chained to the wall of the cave with magical restraints. "He's yours. Have fun."

Following her mistress's gaze, Drakstil looked at the male creature who was fighting to free himself from his bindings of blue light. "Mine?" she rasped.

Daviina nodded. "Yes, he's yours, Drakstil, all yours. I'm going to leave you alone. You have to get to know each other. I will come back later." She waved her hand and cast a spell, releasing the half knight, half-dragon and she vanished into thin air.

Freezing, Artie-dragon watched Drakstil having been turned into a hybrid creature move toward him her wings fluttering slightly like a predator stalking its prey, her eyes glowing in the semi-darkness.

He gulped. "Oh boy!" he whispered.

Suddenly Drakstil leaped on Artie-dragon, mouth open and claws out, her wings outstretched, pinning him to the rocky ground, straddling his legs, clawing his shoulders.

She nuzzled into the male's hair and blew, smoke leaving her nostrils. "Love scent," she said before sniffing his face and neck. "Mine, mine," she cooed. She bit his neck, hard with her sharp pointy teeth, making Artemus-dragon cry out in pain, blood pouring from his neck. "Claimed you," she added and then she licked her mate's blood, purring.

But the beast's instincts in Artemus took over and he pushed Drakstil away from him, a growl rumbling through him, low and threatening.

He unfolded his wings and, blood covering his neck and bare chest, he threw his head back and roared, flames coming out from his mouth.

He lunged at Drakstil then, his wings flapped furiously, pinning her in his turn to the hard ground of the cave… and curled his tongue around her neck, nuzzling her face.

Drakstil growled deep in her throat and used one clawed hand to rip Artie-dragon's unprotected chest and blood gushed out.

Artie-dragon reared back, growling in pain.

Drakstil sucked in a large breath of air, expanding her chest and breathed out a powerful blast of fire – the flames engulfing Artemus-dragon's bulky frame, making the hybrid creature move back.

Freed from the male's body, Drakstil slammed her adversary to the rough ground, between two stalagmites and snarled.

She clawed Artemus-dragon scaled limbs – the scent of his blood exciting her – and in order to stop her Artie-dragon bared his neck, offering her his throat – which was a clear sign of submission. "I yield", he said in a hoarse voice, the dragon part of him giving way to the human part.

He bit down on his lip and willed himself not to cry, but he did. It hurt so much! His whole exhausted body was on fire!

Pain was overwhelming. He burst into tears.

Drakstil shoved herself off of the male, cocking her head to the side, intrigued by the water running down his pale face. She leaned toward Artemus-dragon and licked his face clean, cleaning out the blood and the tears, loving the taste.

Jim materialized beside his changed partner and gasped in surprise when he discovered the other half-human, half-dragon creature pinning his best friend down.

He blinked twice, mouth agape and said, "Drakstil?" And the two hybrid creatures froze, looking around them, but not seeing him. but they had heard him, he realized.

He was invisible, Daviina – who wasn't here – couldn't feel his presence, but Mintee had forgotten to include, 'no one can hear you' in his spell.

He backed off a few paces as Drakstil stood and, on all fours, started to prowl not far from him, sniffing the air and his heart in his throat, Jim realized too that Mintee had forgotten to include 'no one, dragons included would be able to smell you'.

He froze as she spotted him with her slit eyes and snarled.

Grimacing in pain, covered in blood, Artie-dragon let out a very pained whimper, scrambling to get up, and once he was up and staggering, he said, "Jim! Is that you?"

Still invisible, but now located by Drakstil, Jim said, "Yes, it's me," and he ran toward his partner. He grabbed his arm and added, "Let's get out of here!"

Surprised, Artie-dragon asked, "How?" and he winced, his whole body shaking, weakening.

His arm wrapped around his best friend's waist, Jim said, "If I need to leave, I just have to say 'Mintee bring me back!' and he will bring me back – and you too, as I'm holding you. Ready?"

Nodding Artie-dragon replied, "Yes, let's get out of here!"

Smiling, Jim said, "Mintee bring me back!" and opened his eyes wide in fear when Drakstil leaped on them, sending them crashing to the ground.

There was a bright golden light and they all vanished.

Tbc.


	5. Act Four

**THE NIGHT OF THE BLUE DRAGON**

**By Andamogirl**

**WWW**

**ACT FOUR**

It was a split second later that Jim, Artemus-Dragon and Drakstil materialized in the middle of Mintee's vast lab, all of them disoriented.

Drakstil looked around her, growling, teeth bared, blood on her lips and chin.

Mintee, terrified, hid behind a table at the sight of Drakstil. Then his teeth chattering, he cast the spell which would de-dragon Sir Artemus.

He had just pronounced the last word when a bright blue light filled the room, enveloped Artie-dragon and Drakstil nearly blinding them all and they ended up human-shaped and stark naked.

Drakstil leaped on Artemus, pinning him to the carpeted floor and started biting and clawing and, then she froze, realizing that he was a human again, and that her teeth and – nails! – didn't do much damage, she frowned, puzzled. She noticed that her claws were gone. She cocked her head, stunned, and then surveyed her very human body.

She screamed in pure dismay (she wasn't a dragon anymore) and stood, looking around her, now confused, disoriented, and snarled when Jim moved toward her.

Raising a hand to calm down the ex-female dragon, looking friendly and non-threatening, Jim softly said, "Take it easy, we're not going to harm you, Drakstil."

Looking like a trapped animal, Drakstil hissed and growled as she looked around her and, spotting a window, she ran there as she wanted to escape.

But Jim tackled her to the floor before she broke the stained glass. Mintee cast a spell and Drakstil instantly fell into a deep magical sleep.

Lifting the woman's body in his arms, Jim said to Mintee, "Just in time! Without her wings she would have died crashing to the ground." He carried her to the bed covered in furs where the Mage took naps and gently lay her down on it, then he added, "What are we going to do with her now?"

Holding a jar Mintee knelt beside Artemus and winced in sympathy while surveying all his wounds. "I don't know," he said. He sprinkled a little of green powder on the wounds. There was a flash of green light as it touched the bloodied skin and when it disappeared, the deep gashes and bites had vanished. He stood and sighed. "You're healed, Sir Artemus."

Grinning, Artemus stood and looked down at his naked, human form. "I'm back," he said.

Followed by Artie, exhausted but intact again, the old man joined Jim next to the bed. "She's beautiful!" he said, admiring the sturdily built brunette.

Taking from the small bed what looked like a black bear fur, Artie gallantly placed it on Drakstil's naked body. "I prefer her that way," he said.

Mintee nodded, "Me too. She's harmless compared to the dragon-her, but if Sir Artemus is a human being and happy to be back in his born-shape, Drakstil is a dragon. She won't get used to be a woman. Being human is going to drive her crazy. And I don't want her to suffer."

Nodding, Artie said, "I don't want that either. Do you think Daviina still controls her or is she freed from her magical influence?"

Mintee shook his head. "Now that she's a human being, no Daviina doesn't control her anymore, and I'm sure I can find a spell to prevent this when she's a dragon again." He paused. "But we have to keep her true identity secret, because people here in the castle could kill her for what she did as a dragon. She killed a lot of people and badly injured others. They would take revenge the same way."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Artie said, "But Daviina was controlling her mind. Did she force her to kill people or is it something that dragons do here?"

The old man shook his head. "Dragons don't kill people, unless of course they are thieves stealing gold from their hoards. They live in the North in the High Mountains and they avoid people, protecting their territory and hoards in deep caves, feeding on sacrifices offered by locals to preserve their livestock grazing on the grassy plains, usually cows and sheep."

Jim nodded. "I know now why there was no hoard in the cave where we woke up, Artie. It's not her cave. Drakstil came with Daviina from the North where she was exiled. She probably captured Drakstil using magic and brought her here to use her as a weapon."

Sitting at the end of the bed, Jim said, "Find that spell, then you will transform her back into a dragon, and she'll be free to go back home." He looked at Drakstil and added, "I suggest that we keep her here, asleep until you find that spell, Mintee."

The old Mage nodded. "Good idea."

Jim said, "Speaking of spells and of good ideas, I'd like you to cast one to protect us with some kind of temporary magic shield, because we'll need it when we go home."

The old Mage smiled. "It's not a problem. It's an easy one."

Raising his hand, Artemus added, "And I'd like you to use magic to so that I can turn into a dragon, just for a few minutes, because I'll need it."

Snapping his fingers, Jim said, "And we need something to keep Vautrain from vanishing again too!" He told the Mage.

His hand still in the air, Artie added, "I'd like to be able to turn myself into a dragon twice, something tells me that I might need it in order to come out alive from deadly situation."

WWW

_The next morning, in a field soggy with rain_

Drakstil slowly woke up, blinked her eyes open and saw the gray sky above her. She was sprawled on her back, facing big clouds.

Her round belly was exposed, her feet hanging limply, claws retracted, her large wings were outstretched and her tail curled to the side.

She blinked in (very good) surprise. She was a dragon again!

She rolled to her side and got to her feet and saw her reflection in a big puddle of water. Yes, she was a black dragon again, she was herself again.

She let out a long, powerful roar just to be sure.

She looked around then, and next to a rounded rock, a little further away, she spotted three human beings watching her warily.

Recognizing the three humans, she snarled threateningly, teeth exposed, flexing her wings and twitching her tail, and she huffed - smoke coming out from her maw.

Mintee took a step forward and gulped as the dragon's eyes locked on him, its head stretching several feet above his. "I am Mintee, Mage of Queen Mirael. I cast a first spell to transform you into a dragon again, and then I used another spell to free you from Daviina's hold."

Drakstil realized then that she couldn't hear the constant buzz sounding in her head – since the sorceress had captured her.

Mintee added. "She won't be able to use you as a weapon to kill people. You are free to go back to the North, Drakstil."

Drakstil looked up, watching the gray sky above her for a few seconds. Freedom! She thought. Then she looked down at Mintee and bowed her large head.

Mintee imitated the dragon. "It was a pleasure," he said. "But before you go, I'd like you to do something for me, Drakstil and I'm sure you'll be pleased to do it – kill Daviina. Kill her otherwise she'll capture and weaponize a dragon again and kill innocent people."

Lowering her head toward the old man the dragon huffed, saying 'yes' that way and then she launched herself off the ground and flew away.

Mintee said, "Daviina is going to die, that's for sure."

Placing his hand on Artie's shoulder, Jim said, "All's well that ends well." And, suddenly the two men vanished in a bright white light…

Dr. Loveless and Colonel Vautrain grinned as Jim and Artemus materialized inside the large electrified cage they had built by engineers.

Disoriented the two men collapsed to the cold ground. They both looked around them and spotted their 'captors' through the bars and recognized the place - they were back to the Golden Card saloon. All the tables and chairs had been piled against the counter to make room for the cage in which they were locked. And all around them, burly men pointed rifles and guns at them.

Miguelito Loveless moved closer to the 'trap' where the two Secret Service agents were held captive and he cackled. He smiled smugly and said, "If I were you I wouldn't touch the bars. They are electrified and the energy discharge would kill you instantly. I designed this cage myself, and you know how I love electricity and building electrical machines…" And chuckled softly meeting Artemus's back gaze aimed at him. "After our last very surprising encounter, I needed to take precautions you understand – and I can see that you're yourself again, Mr. Gordon, and that the two of you are still alive." He paused, savoring what he was going to say, "So I will have the great pleasure of seeing you die, finally, without you being able to escape." He turned around and glanced at his henchmen. "At my signal they will open fire, shoot you, and you'll be riddled with bullets. I know what you're thinking, it lacks originality, yes, I agree with you, but sometimes what is simple is more effective that all the most elaborate plans."

Ex-Colonel Vautrain joined his accomplice and pulled his cigar from his mouth, exhaling the bluish smoke into the cage.

He addressed a cold smile to the two men now standing in the cage and threw his cigar against one of the sizzling metal bars. There was a flash and it disintegrated in a mini shower of sparkles and ashes. "I will count the bullets one by one, up to 100. 50 for each of you."

Glancing at his partner Artie whispered in Jim's hear, "Now or not now?"

Shaking his head Jim replied, "Later."

Loveless pulled out a vial filled with a green liquid and a black leather notebook from the pockets of his jacket and said, "I wanted to show you this before you die. This is a sample of the serum against the yellow fever and my notebooks where I wrote all my research and the formula. I'm going to sell it to the highest bidder because I need money, and when I have enough to raise an army, I will seize Mexico to become king, or emperor I still hesitate, and I will soon be able to do it."

Looking bored, Jim said, "I heard this before, and it didn't work, and it's not going to work again." He turned toward Artie and said, "Now."

Nodding, Artie tighten his ponytail, took a deep breath and said what Mintee had told him to say to start the temporary transformation. "Dragon!"

Loveless and Vautrain, mouth agape, paralyzed with fear, watched Artie morphing into a massive dragon. Then their instinct of survival finally kicking in, they moved back in a hurry cowering away from the fantastic winged creature.

Coming to his senses, but still terrorized, the former Confederate officer raised a shaking hand and frantically said, "Fire! Fire! Kill it!" and then dozens of bullets hit… a blue energy forcefield, shielding the two agents. Bullets ricocheted off it, flying in all directions, breaking windows, a chandelier, the large mirror behind the counter, vases, disappearing into the ceiling, making holes in the curtains ... and wounding and killing instantly several henchmen.

It wasn't long before the dragon-Artie broke the electrified cage – barely noticing the sparks covering his blue scaled body.

He shook himself, stretched out his wings, stretched his neck up and roared.

Scared out of his mind, the diminutive man hid behind the counter. He pulled his legs close to him, burying his head into his knees, curling into a tight trembling ball, and before the terrified ex-Confederate officer could vanish thanks to his power, Jim leaped forward on him, pinning the other man to the floor.

In a flash he unlocked the gold band he had around his right wrist and closed it around Vautrain's left wrist and it glowed blue.

Frowning, puzzled, the former Colonel asked, "What's this?"

Proud of himself, Jim smiled and said, "It's a magical bracelet. I asked a powerful Mage to create it. You can't remove it now it's on your wrist. It's going to 'ground' you here, I mean stop you from using your power to vanish. It's magic and the spell is permanent!" Then he stood and said, "You are under… dragon-arrest."

Dragon-Artie bared his teeth, growling, as two of Loveless's minions fired at him – and the bullets ricocheted again, hitting the walls.

He let out a big bolt of fire just beside the armed men – making the wall explode - and they fled, screaming, panicked.

Smiling Jim picked up a revolver from the floor next to a dead body and moved between the dragon's front feet protectively. "Good dragon!" He said.

Dragon-Artie purred. Then as Jim moved to the side, he went toward the counter behind which Loveless was hiding, Vautrain standing in front of it, trying to remove the bracelet, Artie making the wooden floor crack under his considerable weight, destroying it.

He had to keep his head low in order not to touch the ceiling with it and keep his wings folded too, to be able to move easily.

He lowered his head toward Colonel Vautrain, the beast in him telling him to eat the human, and he was very tempted to listen to the dragon's instinct.

But he chose not to.

Moving behind the counter, Jim grabbed the vial of serum and the notebook from Loveless's shaking hands, then he grinned. "All's well That ends well," he said.

Dragon-Artie let out a low rumble – signifying that he was very happy too, and then using his forked tongue he playfully licked Jim.

Immediately Jim scrunched up his nose at the revolting smell of dragon's glop and he said, "Yuck! Bad, bad dragon!" And, nauseous, swallowing thickly and slowly, he rasped, "I'm going to be sick…" and promptly vomited at his feet.

WWW

_Later in the Wanderer_

_Enroute to Washington_

_In the bathroom_

Sitting in the big bathtub filled with hot water, his knees poking out of the cloudy water, Jim smiled and took the full glass of whiskey that his best friend was handing him. "Thanks Artie."

Draped in his thick bathrobe, naked underneath, his long hair still wet from the shower he had taken five minutes earlier, Artemus sat down on the stool set beside the bathtub and said, "You're welcome," and he took a sip of coffee from the steaming mug he was holding. "It's to say sorry for licking you, Jim, I know you hated it, but couldn't help but do it."

Smiling Jim said, "I know." He took a sip of alcohol and added, "It's my third bath you know? and the third time I change the water. I needed the first two to remove the Dragon's gooey saliva – which stinks more than a ton of manure off me! – and this one to get rid of the stench."

Smiling too, Artemus nodded, "I know." He drank a little coffee and said, "Hopefully there's a shower in addition to a bathtub." He yawned and stretched. "Maybe I should bring coffee to our guests in the 'rolling- cell, it's cold in there," he said.

Shaking his head Jim replied, "No, no coffee for people who tried to kill us both – I don't know how many times. They don't deserve your kindness, Artie." He sat the glass of whiskey on the rim of the bathtub, took the tin-plate jug at the bottom of it and rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.

Looking at his free hand Artemus said, "I'm happy to be a human again, Mintee's spell lasted long enough for me to capture Loveless and Vautrain, escort them to the Wanderer where you put them in the cell and fly for one hour high in the sky… and I landed just in time too. If I had transformed back into a man in the air, I would be dead by now." He swallowed a mouthful of cooling coffee and then added, "But I'm gonna miss flying. It was so great, so exhilarating!"

His hair soaking wet, Jim said, "I can imagine."

Scratching his stubbled chin, Artie said, "I should have taken you on my back for a ride ya know. You would have loved that."

Stretching out in the big tub, leaning back against the porcelain of the bathtub, Jim told his best friend, "Yes, I'm sure." He ran his fingers through his hair flattened on his head to weed out any tangles. "But if you want to fly again, then build a flying-machine, I'm sure you can." Then he soaped up the washcloth ran it up and down his arms. He smiled inhaled the minty scent and continued, "It's a nicer scent than the abominable gooey stuff you covered me with!"

Artie chuckled softly. "I should have swallowed mints for a fresh breath."

Following his thought, Jim said, "You can build anything you want, so if you want to fly again, build a flying machine." Seeing his partner rub his tired eyes, he said, "You're dead on your feet, Artie, you should go to bed and sleep."

Artemus hummed in acknowledgement and stood, his muscles aching. "You're right."

Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he sighed. "Next time I want a peaceful mission…" Then he frowned realizing what he had just said. "What? No! No! No! Correction! No missions for me anymore. As soon as they are in a cell of the federal prison in Washington, I go back to the Comanche reservation. " Stretching again he winced this time, his whole body stiff and sore from his two transformations. "You're right, I'm exhausted and feeling like I'm over 100." He moved toward the door and paused. "I think I'm falling asleep…" He turned around and, for a few seconds watched Jim scrubbing his chest. "See ya later Jim. G'd night," he slurred.

He left the room, slowly padded in the narrow walkway and then entered his sleeping compartment. His leg gave way with exhaustion and buckled beneath him.

He slumped bonelessly on top of the mattress.

His arms slid under the pillow and he closed his eyes. He fell asleep in a matter of seconds and started snoring lightly.

He dreamed of dragons and flying machines.

WWW

_The next morning_

Holding a mug of steaming coffee, Jim, smiling, moved toward the 'rolling cell' in which Miguelito Loveless and Noel Vautrain were both locked. "Good morning!" He said. Looking at the former Colonel he added, "Still here?" And he chuckled softly. "How does it feel not to have your power anymore?"

Vautrain's lips tightened and his eyes darkened in cold anger. "My power is still here, I can't use it, but it won't last. I'll find a way to remove this enchanted bracelet," he growled.

Jim smiled. "Good luck with that."

Loveless sent a black look at the agent of the Secret Service and said, "You won't gloat anymore when we escape this cage, Mr. West."

He had just said that when a loud screeching noise resounded and the train slowed down brutally – propelling Jim backward against the wooden bulkhead and then to the floor – and sending the two prisoners forward to hit the bars of the cell.

Falling down on his knees to the floor, the diminutive man grinned in triumph and said, "Speaking of my men… they are here to free me and the Colonel – and kill you."

Standing, Jim calmly said, "I don't think so." He picked up his mug that he had dropped during the impact with the bulkhead, he said, "Such good coffee, what a pity!" Feeling the Wanderer coming to a halt, he added, "I'll be back."

He ran toward the last car and once he was in the narrow walkway, he spotted a dozen armed men dismounting their horses.

His first intention was to go inside his sleeping compartment to open the secret panel where he kept a mini-arsenal and froze in front of the door, realizing that it was no use. The Wanderer had been decommissioned and everything removed – revolvers and rifles included.

He was heading toward the parlor car when several bullets broke the windows, flying by him and missing him by inches, making holes everywhere around him.

He ducked for cover to the carpeted floor, wondering where Artie was. The last time he had seen him he was in the galley preparing breakfast.

Then he heard the muffled thud of his body hitting the ground.

He felt his heart skip a beat. "Artie!"

He stood as another shootout sent a new volley of bullets to hit the side of the train and two of them slammed into the wooden wall just above his head.

He rushed into the parlor room and once there, he stumbled against Artie's body, the older man lying prone on the floor and collapsed next to the couch.

Deeply worried he crawled to his partner's side - Artie wearing his pajamas and an apron - his green eyes surveying him up and down and he paled as he noticed that the older man had blood smudging the right side of his lax face down to his neck.

He pressed two fingers against Artie's throat and found a pulse. He sighed in relief. Then he shook the unconscious man's shoulder. "Wake up, Artie!"

Opening his eyes, Artie winced and rasped, "I'm okay…One bullet grazed my head when I left the galley and I passed out." He smiled reassuringly to his partner Artie said, "I'm fine. The bullet tried to scalp me, but it's not serious, head wounds always bleed a lot."

Feeling better Jim noticed that Artie was holding a fork and said, "You're not going to kill anyone with that you know?"

Moving into a sitting position, keeping his head low, Jim raised his eyes toward the flat cupboard with two doors located above the dresser where he kept his rifles and revolvers. "If only I could open it and take out a rifle," He said. But the constant deluge of bullets which hit the train turning it into a colander, made it impossible. He was empty-handed, he thought.

He glanced at Artie who had moved onto his back and was touching his head wound, wincing. "We need to do something, Artie!" Then they heard new volley of gunshots.

Lifting his fork Artie replied, "I could threw my fork at them Jim… but I'm not sure it would stop them. Do you have a better idea?"

Scratching his head Jim said, "Usually you're the one who has great ideas…" Then he had one. He touched his best friend's biceps and added, "I have a better plan. You asked Mintee to give you the possibility to become a dragon twice, in case you needed it, to come out alive from a deadly situation – then use the last possibility so that we can get out of this!"

Shaking his head, Artie touched his head wound which was bleeding sluggishly his face twisted into a painful wince and then looked at his blood-covered fingertips. "No! One day we could be in a far worse situation than this one, one day, so I intend to keep it as an ace in the hole." And his vision darkened around the edges again.

Frowning at his partner Jim said, "A far worse situation than this one? Such as what? Facing a horde of hungry cannibals? Legions of armed husbands who have been cheated on?"

Sending Jim a black look, Artie said, "I never put a married woman in my bed, ever! I respect the sacred bonds of marriage."

Suddenly the door opened and a gun-wielding man entered the room as a spray of bullets hit the side of the car already covered with dozens of holes.

It all happened in a blink of an eye. Reacting instinctively, Jim grabbed the fork, moved onto his knees and, with all his might, he threw the fork at Loveless's henchman.

Hit right in his left eye, the other man screamed in pain, dropped his gun at his feet and staggered backward onto the rear platform.

Seizing the opportunity, Jim made a bee line there and picked up the Colt. Then he pushed the injured man against the railing and unbuckled the henchman's gun belt in a flash.

Then as Loveless's minion tried to punch him, Jim pushed him over the railing making the other man drop to the ground with a thump and heard him shouting with pain.

Holding the gun, Jim came back inside. He crouched beside his partner who smiled at him in appreciation and said, "Well done with the fork, Jim!"

Jim smiled, waited for the assailants to reload their weapons, and stood. Then, through a broken window he pulled the trigger and fired at them, killing four of Loveless's men with a bullet to the heart. "Five down, five to go!" He said. "Now that I have a gun, it's a piece of cake." He crouched beside Artie again, reloaded his smoking evolver and then said, "We won't need the dragon after all."

Black spots invading his vision, Artie sniffed the acrid air and said, his voice is sluggish and slurred, "My omelet is burning…" And then he went limp.

The world faded to black.

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_Much later in Artie's sleeping compartment_

His eyes fluttering open, Artemus woke up to the light roll of the train on the tracks and to the repetitive sounds made by the Wanderer.

His vision still a bit blurry from sleep he looked around him and was met with familiar surroundings – and he saw his best friend sitting on a chair at the end of his bed. He had a book on his lap and was watching him. "Hey Jim, how long was I out?" He croaked his vision clearing, and he moved a limp hand to the top of his head where it hurt. "Ow! Ow!"

Jim left his chair to sit on the edge of the bed. "You shouldn't touch it – and you were unconscious for a couple of hours."

Artie felt a short line of stitches under his fingertips and winced – then he realized that there was no hair around his wound. He sent his best friend a black look. "Did you have to remove my hair? It's going to take weeks to grow back." then he ran a hand through his messed up curls.

Patting Artie's shoulder soothingly Jim said, "I'm sorry, Artie, but I didn't have a choice. You needed a few stitches and shaving your skull here was necessary to access the wound, and it will heal faster this way now that the hair is gone. When back with the Comanche you'll find something to hide that part of your skull, I'm sure, like a piece of beaded buffalo hair. In the meantime, Artemus, I suggest to keep your hat on your head if you don't want anyone to see it."

Propping himself on his elbows Artie grimaced in pain. "Ow… headache!" He said and leaned back against his pillow. "I suppose you killed all Loveless's henchmen?"

Jim shook his head. "Not all of them, no. Three are wounded, it's serious but it's not lethal. I locked them into the cell with the others."

Rubbing his jawline Artie asked, "And how are our special guests? No, let me guess, they're very disappointed their rescue didn't work and still fuming against us."

Smiling Jim nodded. "Even more, Vautrain especially. He's terribly mad at being stuck here. I think if he could do it he would cut his hand off to get rid of Mintee's bracelet – and would go to the future again to get a new one, the same way he got new legs."

Sitting on his bead Artie said, "You're right, Jim, it's a possibility. He would do it without hesitation. No sharp objects for him from now on." He yawned, stretched and heard his stomach growl. "I'm hungry – and I'm sure you didn't make breakfast."

Moving his hand to his chest, looking falsely surprised, Jim replied, "Me? Making breakfast? You're kidding right?" A smile crossed his face. "Have we met before?"

Tbc.

Robert Conrad (1935-2020)

Rest In Peace.


	6. Tag

**THE NIGHT OF THE BLUE DRAGON**

**By Andamogirl**

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**TAG**

_Washington D.C_

_US Secret Service Headquarters_

Colonel Richmond smiled and said, "A medieval castle, a bad sorceress, a mage, dragons… It was a hell of an adventure!"

Jim nodded. "We have just summarized everything that happened, you can read the details in the report that we wrote, Colonel."

Scowling Artemus sent his best friend a reproving look. "Report, that I wrote! Me! Not you. I always wrote all our reports."

Patting the older man's shoulder soothingly, Jim replied, "That's because you always did have a way with words, buddy."

Richmond shook Jim's hand and said, "Thank you very much! With Miguelito Loveless's notebook where he wrote the formula of his serum in good hands, we'll be able to heal hundreds of people from the yellow fever. And as a double bonus, Loveless and Vautrain are behind bars now and I'll make sure they stay that way while awaiting trial in a couple of months. You're going to be a very hostile witness in this case." Then he shook Artemus's hand and added, "The President is delighted and asked me to congratulate you both."

Pleased to hear this, Jim smiled. "It was a pleasure, Sir. But this mission is the last one we do for the Secret Service. Don't ask for help again. Artie and I are retired.

Richmond nodded. "I know that, but I can't promise you anything…" And he earned a scowl from the other two men. "To thank you President Hayes has granted you the use of the Wanderer for a month, while waiting for the trial to open, at the expense of the Government, to go wherever you want in the country. Any purchases you make during this period as well will be paid for by the Government."

First Jim shook his head, ready to say no. His plan was to travel back to Tecate as soon as possible to be with Carmelita and Jesus and Rufina. Then he realized that using the Wanderer, he could go to Phoenix and then take a commercial train home. And he could take Artie with him! They would spend some time together and then come back to Washington.

Seeing Artie's face – who looked devastated because he obviously wanted him to stay at his side for the coming months – he said, "I accept. It's a generous offer we can't refuse, right Artie? You will go back to the Comanche reservation after the trial, alright?"

Looking at his best friend Artie nodded with pleasure and he grinned. He would spend the next two months at Jim's side, he thought. "Yes, alright."

Richmond opened the door and said, "Enjoy your leave, you deserve it. Jim, Artemus, we'll see each other in two months."

Smiling Jim and Artie replied in chorus, "With pleasure, Colonel."

The three men shook hands again and once in the corridor, the door of Richmond's office closed Jim said, "Let's have a drink! We have lots of things to celebrate, the success of our mission, the fact that you and I are still alive, President Hayes's congratulations… I propose we go to this saloon in Grant's Street called 'Lincoln's Hat'…I heard that the waitresses there are the most beautiful women in Washington… and they are sparsely dressed." Then he winked at Artie.

Smiling Artemus said, "You're right." He placed his hat on his head and then added, "You can add to that list the fact that I'm a human again, that Loveless and Vautrain are both locked in a cell of a federal prison and that we saved thousands of people from yellow fever."

Following his best friend into the empty corridor, Jim replied, "True, so we deserve more than a bottle of whiskey in a saloon even with gorgeous half-naked women. Let's go to a restaurant. What about the 'Coq d'Or? It's the best French restaurant in the Capital."

Reaching the main door of the building, Artie stopped and asked, "Good idea. Are you buying? Because I don't have any money. I live with Comanche Indians, remember?"

Placing a hand on Artie's shoulder Jim said, "I'll pay the bill, because I'm not sure the owner of the restaurant is going to accept Comanche horses as payment."

Chuckling Artie said, "I don't think so either. Then we'll take the Wanderer to go to Greenhill, what do you think? I'd like to see my mom and Harry I haven't been for a long time, and take some rest… "

Jim nodded. "I'd be delighted to. Then we'll go back to the train. I want to introduce you to Carmelita and to my babies."

Grinning, Artie nodded. "Good idea!" And on the way to Mexico, I'm going to build a flying machine. I have the schematics ready in my mind. I just need the necessary materials, and a little time to realize my ideas. I'd like to fly again."

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_One month later_

_Somewhere in the Blue Ridge Mountains_

_North Carolina_

Leaning back against his saddle, sipping a big cup of hot coffee, Artemus observed his best friend sitting cross-legged like him on a plaid blanket, under a tree protecting them from the sun - warm, but not hot, standing high in the sky.

Jim was pale and looked very worried. He hadn't touched his coffee.

Artie chuckled softly and said, "Everything is going to be alright, Jim. I tested my invention a dozen times at least…"

Jim nodded. "Yes you did, from gently-sloping hills! With no obstacles and wide fields to land safely, not from the top of a mountain."

Imperturbable, Artie continued, "From the edge of a cliff, to be accurate. And nothing has ever happened. My flying machine works perfectly."

The younger man harrumphed. "I should never have put this idea of building a flying machine in your head! It's a bad, bad idea." Pointing at the edge of the cliff located a few feet to their right. "Yes, it works, but you never used it from the top of a mountain Artie! or cliff edge. There are rocks and trees everywhere here. There are no fields to land anywhere. You could kill yourself." He frowned both confused and anxious, and more alarm bells ringing in his head. "By the way where did you plan to land?"

Lowering his steaming mug to his lap, Artie said, "There's a lake down there with a wide and long stretch of sand bordering it. I will land there." He grinned enthusiastically. "I'll be there within minutes, and it will take you several hours on horseback and on foot to join me there. Maybe more as you have to bring the mule and my horse with you."

Rubbing his forehead nervously, Jim said, "And I thought that with age came wisdom…"

Reaching out under the shade, Artie patted his best friend's arm reassuringly. "It's going to be okay, Jim." Then he made a face. "And are you telling me I'm old?"

Nodding Jim replied, "Yes you are and old men don't do stunts like this. Let's go back to the Wanderer. Your machine works, end of the story."

Bringing the mug back to his lips, Artemus swallowed a mouthful of coffee and then said, "I don't feel old, and I promise you this will be my last jump."

His brow furrowing, Jim growled, "Of course this will be your last jump - because you will die crushing yourself against a rock or a tree, or both, somewhere down there." And he gestured toward the void, over the small campfire.

Not discouraged, having confidence in himself and his abilities to fly his flying machine, Artemus said, "Everything will be alright. Let's enjoy our picnic." And he spread the contents of the picnic basket over the blanket between him and Jim.

His face darkening, Jim said, "It's your last meal, you know?" before grabbing a roasted chicken leg and chewing on it nervously.

Smiling, Artemus picked up a sandwich among the dozen he had prepared for the picnic removed the paper around it and said, "Mmmmm… slices of cheese, onion rings, slices of ham and a few lettuce leaves on top. I think you're overreacting Jim, it's usually my part. I'm the emotional member of our duet." Then he took a hungry bite.

Pursing his lips, Jim opened a takeaway glass container. He took a table spoon and dug into the potato salad, piling some of it on his plate. "No, I'm not. I'm just saying it's suicide."

Opening a container of boiled eggs, Artie shook his head. "I don't want to die. I just want to fly – high in the sky, one last time."

Seasoning his potato salad with salt and pepper, Jim retorted, "You're not a dragon anymore, Artie. Humans don't fly."

Glancing at his still unpacked flying machine, sitting next to the mule which had carried it from the train to there, Artie said, "They did before. Icarus did for example."

Looking gloomy, Jim replied, "Greek mythological figure whose wings disintegrated, drowned in the Aegean. Bad example."

Smiling, Artemus sat his half-empty mug on the blanket, stood and stretched. He took in a deep breath of the pine-scented air. "It's a perfect day to fly. Let's unpack my machine… I can't wait to try my hang glider. In the future 'hang gliding' could be an 'air sport' or recreational activity you know?" And then he headed toward his folded hang glider.

He suddenly let out a yelp of surprise as his right foot caught on a tree root that was curved out of the ground and landed in a heap with a thud.

He moved into a sitting position clutching at his right ankle as hot white pain flooded through it. "Ow! I hurt my ankle," he said wincing, as he tried to hold back the pain.

Kneeling down beside Artie with concern in his eyes, Jim said, "Okay, don't move. I'm going to fetch the medical kit in my saddle bag."

Rubbing his painful ankle Artie shook his head. "No, don't, there's no need. it's going to be okay… I just need to rest a little and the pain will subside. I've had worse you know?"

His arms crossed on his chest, a scowl on his face, Jim half-groaned, "I hope you don't want to fly with a sprained ankle? You might have a few ligaments torn, you can't even walk, so how would you be able to land? You are going to stay here. On the ground."

Poking at the joint carefully, jaw tightened, Artemus replied, "I can land in water…"

Furrowing his brow, the younger man said, annoyance slipping into his voice, "And drown. Good idea. Forget it Artie. Fate wants you to stay on the ground – that's why you have a sprained ankle."

Believing in destiny, Artie raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

Jim nodded firmly. "Yes."

The two men looked up at the sky when they heard the characteristic call of an eagle and watched a majestic golden eagle fly a few feet above them.

Smiling Jim added, "The Great Spirit protects you, Artie. He's the one you have to blame for your sprained ankle, not destiny."

Capitulating Artie said, "I think you're right." With Jim helping him he got up, pain shooting through his ankle as soon as he took a step.

He lost his balance and collapsed on his buttocks, hard, because he was unable to put weight on his sprained ankle. He yelped.

Placing one arm behind Artemus's shoulders, Jim reached down to scoop up his knees, settling him into his arms bridal style. "Let me carry you, Artie."

Artemus smiled broadly. "Thank you Jim. It's a lovely place for a honeymoon." And the two men chuckled in chorus.

They slowly moved toward their picnic spot.

Crouching, he lowered Artie to the ground, on the plaid blanket and watched the older man lean back against his saddle. "Let's see that twisted ankle now. Brace yourself." He rolled up a pant leg and then proceeded to remove his best friend's boot, slowly, gently, eliciting moans and hisses of pain as he did so.

Jim cautiously removed the wooly sock then - and Artie bit down on his lip and fought unsuccessfully to withhold a cry of pain - revealing a considerably swollen ankle which was already red and blue. "Can you move your foot and wiggle your toes?" Artie complied though painfully. "It's not broken. That's a good thing. But your ankle is badly sprained," he said, running his fingers over the joint, making Artemus flinch, pressing his lips together. "And you're bruising already." He sighed and then added, "Riding for hours to go back to the Wanderer with that is going to be very painful, but I can help."

Smiling Artie said, "Thanks Jim."

Jim grabbed the medical kit he carried in his saddle bag and, holding it, came back beside his best friend thirty seconds later.

He pulled out a pot of ointment, a roll of bandage and a small glass bottle of red pills, finding Artemus palpating the bruised tender skin of his sprained ankle when he returned.

He immediately let go with a jolt of pain. "Ow!"

Shaking his head, looking at Artemus disapprovingly, Jim said, "You shouldn't touch it." Then he sat cross-legged and propped Artie's injured ankle on his lap. "I should put ice on it to relieve some of your pain and keep the swelling down, but there's none here." Instead he slowly applied the arnica ointment on Artie's bruised and swollen ankle. He tried to use as little pressure as possible on it, massaging gently, making the other man press his lips into a thin line and his eyebrows pinch together, his teeth gritted. "It's not the Indian ointment you usually use to rapidly heal well… everything, like hematomas, edema, dislocations, bruises, muscle and joint pains – and sprains, but it should do the job while waiting for a doctor to examine your sprain."

Artie nodded. "Arnica is a powerful anti-inflammatory…"

Jim wrapped the bandage around Artie's ankle, bracing it tightly for support, trying to cause his best friend as little pain as possible, but Artemus hissed non-stop through his gritted teeth as a searing pain was shooting up his leg. "Hold on, it's almost finished."

Once the sprained ankle was bandaged, Jim said, "There we go, all wrapped up. From the medical kit he pulled out a flask of whiskey. "To disinfect wounds… but it can be used for internal use too." And he gave the small bottle to Artie.

Smiling, Artemus removed the screw-down cap. "That's a good idea, Jim. Thanks." He said before taking a long sip.

Jim stood. "I'm going to saddle the horses. You stay here, I won't be long."

Looking up at Jim, Artie said, "It can wait, we didn't finish out picnic. And I'm hungry." And he picked up another sandwich.

Smiling Jim sat back in front of his best friend. "Nothing can kill your appetite," he said. He saw Artie nod and picked up a sandwich from the basket too.

His stomach full, Artemus swallowed a couple of red pills with a sip of alcohol and then said, "The pain should disappear with that." He replaced the lid on the bottle of painkillers as well as the cap on the flask of whiskey. Closing his eyes, he added, "I'm going to take a nap... please wake me up in an hour and then we'll leave…" And he drifted off to sleep.

Smiling Jim said, "Sleep well Artie."

But Artie didn't sleep well.

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Artie's bad dream,

_Secret Service Headquarters_

_Washington D.C._

_Midday _

Richard Barrett placed the blood-spotted linen bag on a tray on Colonel Richmond's desk and then said to his commanding officer, "A guard found this in Vautrain's cell, this morning, Sir, after the Director made the first all in the prison yard. Vautrain was not present… well actually, a small part of him was still there. I brought it to you, Colonel."

The gray-haired man cringed. "Thank you." Disgusted, he opened the bag and pulled out… a hand severed above the wrist. "I still can't believe he self-mutilated…" He said, dropping it on the tray. The he took his handkerchief and wiped dried blood from his fingers.

Barrett explained, "Vautrain cut his hand off with a knife he stole from the prison canteen Sir, and the cell being searched every day, he concealed it in one of the feet of his wooden bed, which he had hollowed out and then stuffed with sawdust mixed with saliva to form a cork. As the canteen blunt-end knives are not sharp, he probably sharpened it for days to be able to cut his wrist above the bracelet. Then, after he was 'freed' of his right hand, he removed Mintee's bracelet and vanished using his power." He took out Mintee's enchanted bracelet from his right jacket pocket and showed to his superior. "It was the only way he could escape as he couldn't remove it thanks to the Mage's spell." And he deposited the magical bracelet on the desk.

Richmond nodded gloomily. "The bracelet which magically grounded him here, in this world and dimension… Now that he's gone and we don't know where he is…"

Major Barrett nodded. "And not even 'when' either, Colonel. But I'm sure he left for the future to be able to have a new hand thanks to advanced medical technology. He has two 'artificial' legs, already and doctors there will equip him with a 'bionic prosthesis' resembling real hand."

Placing the bluish and rigid appendage back in the bag, the head of the Secret Service said, "But we know one thing, Major, he'll come back soon to take revenge on Jim West and Artemus Gordon."

Barrett nodded. "We should offer them the protection of the Secret Service here in Washington, in a safe house, while Vautrain is still at large."

Richmond nodded. "And they will refuse. You are talking about James West and Artemus Gordon, Major. It's not this man who will scare them after all they've been through!" He sighed. "But we can try it anyway, we never know. Contact Peterson of the Phoenix bureau, he'll head to Tecate to see James West. As for you Major, you go back to the Comanche reservation to tell everything to Artemus Gordon, aka Strong Bear – and I hope it's not too late."

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_Comanche reservation_

_Later_

Strong Bear slid off his painted horse and walked Mo to the stream for water. He knelt there and scooped up some water into his cupped hands.

He drank the fresh liquid and splashed some on his dusty face. "Boy! I was thirsty! And I bet you're thirsty too," He said to Mo and Mo huffed in agreement.

He stood and within a couple of minutes, he expertly removed from his mount the A-framed travois loaded with the pieces of elk meat he had wrapped in pieces of buffalo rawhide.

He gave Mo'éhno'ha Ȯhtameōhtsėstse's an affectionate pat on the side of his head and said, "You need to rest Mo, and I need to rest too." Then he grabbed the blanket covering his gelding's back along with his parfleche pouch.

Mo lowered his head toward the fresh water to quench his thirst and then he grazed on the grassy bank of the stream.

Strong Bear looked around him at the vast plain which stretched around him for miles and miles, punctuated here and there with red and black rocks. The sun was setting behind the ragged foothills of the Wichita Mountains in the distance, where he had killed and dismembered the elk. "It's so beautiful…"

He added, addressing his horse, "We should reach the settlement tomorrow afternoon, Mo, with enough meat to feed the children for a few days." And he smiled. Silver Cloud had officially designated him 'Protector of the children' as he loved them like they were his own.

Mo happily snorted in response and flicked his tail tool. Soon he wouldn't have to drag a heavy load behind him and could run free with the other horses.

Strong Bear's smile vanished from his lips at the thought of his band suffering (and he too) from hunger because of the meager rations the Government provided to the band, and to all the Indians of the reservations in general. Big game had almost completely disappeared from the Comanche land exterminated by encroaching whites like gold diggers and settlers. Comanche managed to survive with additional food, hunting small game like rabbits and gathered nuts, berries, and wild potatoes, he thought.

Lit by the red-orangey colors of sunset, Strong Bear said to himself, "It's going to get dark soon, it's time to set up camp."

He used his tomahawk to reduce a dry bush to a pile of twigs and branches and as it was growing cooler, he started a fire as the first stars shone in the sky.

Sitting cross-legged on the blanket next to a large boulder, he lowered his quiver and bow to the grassy ground.

Then he pulled out balls of pemmican from his brightly colored and fringed parfleche pouch and bit into one, while listening to the night sounds of the Prairie.

His stomach filled, Strong Bear yawned and rubbed his tired eyes. "Time to sleep, old man," he said to himself and lay on his back.

He pulled half of the blanket over him and closed his eyes.

Soon he was asleep.

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_Later_

It was the middle of the night when Strong Bear abruptly woke up hearing Mo's alarm neighs and propped himself on his elbows, fully awake in seconds. The hair on his neck stood up.

He saw a man standing at his side. He was pointing a gun at him, hammer cocked back, holding the revolver with a shiny full metal hand.

Strong Bear blinked twice in total surprise. "Vautrain!" He said, not believing his eyes. "How is it possible…?" And seeing flames being reflected on the other man's metallic hand, he knew. "You cut your hand to be able to get rid of Mintee's bracelet…"

The ex-Colonel nodded. "Exactly. The pain was absolutely atrocious, excruciating… but it was worth it, I'm free now. I chose to have a metallic hand that doesn't look like a real one... to remind me that I had to use a knife to mutilate myself because of you and Mr. West… because of you I lost my legs and my right hand!" His eyes flashed and he pursed his lips angrily and then added, "When you and your best friend are both dead, I'll go back to the future and the doctors of that wonderful hospital in New York City will give me a bionic hand that looks like a real one."

Strong Bear made a sudden grab for his tomahawk laid on the ground to his right to throw it to the other man, but he never reached it.

Eyes black with utter vengeance, Vautrain's lips curled into a snarl and he pulled the trigger. The gunshot was deafening, ringing through the air and echoing in the night throughout the immense plain.

Shot in his heart, point blank, Artemus felt white hot pain jolt through his body, for one second, and he died the next one.

He crumpled onto his back, spread eagled, his wide and vacant eyes staring into nothingness.

Noel Bartley Vautrain grinned. "That was a good shot." He said. And the grin did not leave his face as he emptied the shells from his revolver into Artemus Gordon's body. "Just to be sure," he said. Then he pressed a button on his belt and the invisible personal force field protecting him was deactivated. "One down, one to go!" He added and then he vanished into thin air

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_The next morning _

Silver Cloud pulled gently on the reins as his horse shied slightly.

He felt his heart constrict in his chest with dread when he spotted a man lying face upward among tall grass and wild flowers.

Strong Bear! He thought with a look of horror on his face, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

Mo'éhno'ha Ȯhtameōhtsėstse was sitting next to his fallen master, head low.

He slid off his horse's back and ran toward his best friend's unmoving body. He sank to his knees beside the other man, ignoring the stench of blood and the flies humming and touched his face painted black with two red stripes on the forehead and chin, cold as stone.

He placed his trembling hand above Strong Bear's bloodied lips – and felt no breath against his palm. A gasp escaped his lips.

He took the other man's lax and unmoving hand in his. "No!" He croaked.

He was gone.

He grabbed his knife and cut through the fringed buckskin shirt caked with dried blood to get a better look at the wound and discovered a gaping gun-shot wound in his chest, at the level of his heart.

Death had been instantaneous.

He stood his face twisted in a pained expression and howled his rage and grief.

Everything went silent then.

He quickly searched for footprints, found those of a man wearing boots but there was no sign of hoof prints. A white man, with no horse had killed Strong Bear – and then had vanished into thin air. How was it possible? He asked himself, utterly confused.

But answers and vengeance would came later, he thought. First he had to bring Strong Bear back to the settlement and prepare the funeral ceremony and the burial ritual.

He saddled up Mo, then he wrapped his best friend's almost rigid body in his blanket. Then he hoisted it across the saddle and tied the corpse on it with buffalo-hide rope.

He attached the travois to his own horse and then mounted it. Then he headed back toward the settlement, Mo following him.

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_Later_

Silver Cloud standing in his tepee watched the funeral ritual preparing the dead warrior for the journey to the happy-hunting grounds that awaited him.

It was also a ceremony of deep grief for the loss of a loved one.

Strong Bear was bathed, the three women taking care of him removing blood and grime. Then they painted his face in red and sealed his eyes with clay.

Strong Bear was then dressed in his favorite clothes, and then laid upon a blanket.

His knees were folded, brought up to his chest bound in that position with a buffalo-hide rope, and his arms were also flexed upon each side of the chest, and the head bent forward upon the knees, so as to make the body as compact as possible.

Silver Cloud and Strong Bear's friends took a final look at the body, and then it was wrapped in another blanket and tightly tied with buffalo-hide rope.

Once that was done, Strong Bear's body was brought outside and placed in a sitting position on his favorite pony, the whole band gathering there for a final goodbye.

It was time for the burial.

Marching in front, Silver Cloud led the pony to the burial place located west of the settlement, in order that Strong Bear's spirit would accompany the setting sun to the world beyond. The spirit would start on its journey the following night after death has taken place.

Riding behind a squaw was carrying Strong Bear's most valuable possessions, blankets, cloths, and moccasins and his bow and quivers filled with arrows, his body ornaments and his saddle. Strong Bear's warriors friends mounted their horses and followed too.

Silver Cloud reached the burial site before sunset which was a crevice high among the rocks, away from vultures and coyotes.

Silver Cloud placed Strong Bear's body in a sitting position into the crevice face downwards and piled his belongings in the grave.

Then the Comanche chief piled rocks on each side of the crevice, closing the tomb.

He had one last thing to do before leaving. He pulled out the Winchester from the stiff buffalo rawhide scabbard in his back and moved toward the spotted pony.

He shot him in the head.

Then Silver cloud and the other Comanche began yelling and chanting at the burial site of the dead warrior after the tomb was closed.

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_Two days later_

_Silver Cloud's settlement_

Major Barrett escorted by two warriors – as the settlement was part of the Comanche reservation and therefore off-limits to non-Indians – dismounted his horse.

He frowned, confused as he watched a group of Comanche – who had shaved the left side of their heads - Silver Cloud included, burning Strong Bear's tepee painted in blue at its top and with blue stripe in its middle and blue zigzags at its base and his broken possessions.

He noticed that he had completely shaved his head and that the women around him, dressed in rags cried aloud and had slashed their arms and chests, blood dripping to the ground.

Even if he didn't know a lot of things about Comanche Indians he knew they had done that to show their grief. Someone important had died, he thought.

Framed by the two Comanche Indians holding spears, he headed toward the now bald Comanche war Chief and, once at Silver Cloud's side, he asked, "Why are you doing this?"

Silver Cloud replied, "Strong Bear is dead." He pointed his arm toward the brazier and said, "We broke all his possessions because his fighting days are done. And we are burning what remains of them here. We do it to make sure that all of his belongings would be able to reach him in the other world, through the smoke where he could use them. His others valuables are placed with him, in his grave."

Major Barrett blanched. "He was killed…"

Intrigued Silver Cloud frowned. "How do you know that?"

The Secret Service officer heaved a long sigh. "A man called Vautrain probably killed him. It's a long story." He suppressed a curse. "It's too late. What happened?"

Silver Cloud took a couple of steps back and watched the burning tepee collapse to the ground, flames continuing to devour everything, blankets, clothes, water carriers, lances, tomahawks…" He went hunting in the Wichita mountains for two days to bring meat to the children. Not seeing him back at the settlement when he should have been back, I went looking for him. I found him on the plain…" He paused struggling to keep his emotions at bay. Comanche warriors didn't cry. They were strong and stolid. He added, "He was killed with a bullet to his heart and he had been dead for several hours. His horse was alive. I didn't kill it to place it next to Strong Bear's grave. It's a Cheyenne horse. I will bring him to Strong Bear's Cheyenne brother, American Knife. But I brought his best pony to his grave and I killed it, because the departed needs to appear well mounted when reaching the other world. I brought Strong Bear back, using his travois. We buried him according to our funeral ritual." Seeing that the white man was curious, he added, "I can't tell you about that, it's a sacred funeral ritual and burial, and white men don't have to know it. But I can lead you to his final resting place, Major Barrett."

Barrett nodded. "Yes, please."

WWW

_Later, somewhere in the vast plain_

Half an hour later the two men dismounted next to a group of boulders lost in the immense plain. Silver cloud pointed at a small crevice up in the rounded rocks. "He's there."

Barrett moved there slowly, watching to his right the dead pony already half-eaten by vultures and coyotes then he noticed the stacked rocks and wooden poles around the tomb. The crevice there had been filled in with loose rocks at either end.

Barrett closed his eyes and whispered a short prayer. Then he said, "I'm sorry for your loss. The Secret Service will do everything to find his murderer. He will end up hanging at the end of a rope with his feet dangling off the ground."

Silver Cloud nodded. "I don't care about white men's justice. It's too soft. Bring that man to me and he will regret being born."

Barrett looked at the Comanche Chief picturing all kind of tortures the Indians used against their enemies. They didn't do them anymore… but he was sure Silver Cloud would revive them.

Suddenly there was a flash of bright white light and the ex-Colonel Vautrain materialized… holding a revolver and aiming it at Jim who had materialized with him, at his side.

Silver Cloud immediately grabbed his knife, unsheathing it and Barrett lowered his hand to the butt of his holstered gun.

Raising his intact left hand, Vautrain said, "Don't move! Or Mr. West will die…" And saw the two other men freeze. "Very good." Pointing at the filled crevice in the boulders, he asked, "Is this Mr. Gordon's tomb?" And he saw Jim's face reflect shock.

Jim shook his head in horror and denial. "No, no, he can't be dead…" He croaked, his throat choking up. He felt nauseous and his throat felt clogged.

Silver Cloud nodded confirming it. "It's strong Bear's tomb, yes. He died."

The ex-Colonel grinned seeing his prisoner's face crumble. "I thought you would have transported his body to the nearest fort so it could be transferred to Washington, but I can see he was buried like a Comanche. I suppose it's a great honor as he was a white man."

Silver Cloud's eyes flashed. "And he was a Comanche warrior! After what he did for his band, he deserved to be buried our way."

Smiling, Noel Bartley Vautrain propelled Jim to the ground, hard. Then he said, "I tried to be creative in killing you, because you were both interesting adversaries and thus deserved a 'special' death, something out of the ordinary, but you somehow managed to survive my elaborate plans and I was really upset… So, I decided to use a more brutal and radical approach, but very effective way to kill you. I first killed Mr. Gordon with a bullet to his heart. He never had a chance. His luck finally ran out."

Hearing that, Jim's eyes flashed with grief and anger and his hand clenched into a tight fist.

Cold as ice, Vautrain continued, "He died, yes, but didn't suffer. And if his death pleased me, a lot, I later regretted that he didn't suffer. I'm not going to repeat the same error with you, Mr. West. But I wanted you to see your best friend's tomb before you die, to make you suffer, that's why I brought you here."

Intrigued Barrett asked, "How did you know we were here?"

The ex-Colonel smiled. "It's part of my immense power. I focus on one place and I materialize there a split second later. I can do that with people too, whether they are still alive or dead. I focused on Mr. Gordon and I materialized here. Simple."

He was ready to pull the trigger and kill James West when a mountain lion appeared on top of the boulders, snarling and showing white teeth.

The ex-Colonel froze and the blood drained from his face as the massive and deadly feline leaped forward with a roar.

Crying out in surprise Vautrain collapsed on his back onto the grassy ground, his gun slipping from his new metallic hand, his legs giving out underneath him, the big cat pinning him there.

He vanished before the big cat could rip his throat with his fangs… scaring the cougar which ran away at top speed across the plain.

Silver Cloud was both astonished and frightened. "Where did he go? How did he vanish? Is he a malevolent spirit?"

Barrett helped Jim to stand. "Are you okay Mr. West?"

Looking up at Artie's tomb, Jim shook his head. "No, I'm not okay," he replied with a strangled voice and teary eyes.

He inhaled a lungful of air, trying to keep his composure. He bit his lower lip. It hurt so much that he wanted to scream.

He had lost Artemus, Artie, his best friend, his big brother.

He chocked, tried to breathe in and his whole body shuddered. He said, "Vautrain is just a man, but he has a great power… he can appear and disappear in one second. It's a long story." Big tears rolled down his pale cheeks. "He killed Artemus…"

He moved toward the man he loved like he was his own brother and placed a shaking hand on one of the round stones filling the front part of the crevice where Artemus Gordon was laid to rest.

He took a shuddering breath and leaned forward. "Goodbye Artie. I will miss you… so much. But we'll see each other again one day." He whispered.

Suddenly Artie's baritone voice resonated inside his head, 'Not too soon. I will always be at your side. You'll remember me. You'll never lose those memories."

Then James West dropped to his knees as a wave of misery overwhelmed him. and his head low, he started to cry his eyes out.

He began to mourn Artemus Gordon.

WWW

_Later under Silver Cloud's tepee, at night_

Sitting cross-legged beside the fire, Jim was looking down at the flames, his face was pale, drawn out, his eyes red rimmed. His mind blank numbed by grief and mourning.

Silver Cloud knelt beside the white man nudged him against his back and then placed some silver and copper trinkets in Jim's hand as well as a hair pipe breastplate. "They belonged to Strong Bear. He wanted you to have this, if he died, as something to remember him by he told me."

Looking down at the trinkets in his hand, Jim said, "Thank you." He heaved a long sigh, shaking his head. "I still can't believe he's dead."

The Comanche chief nodded and Jim saw sorrow flicker across Silver Cloud's usually impassive features. "He lives. He's not among us anymore, but he's in the spirit world, galloping on his pony with other warriors in the happy hunting grounds, hunting buffalos with them."

Jim placed Artie's hair pipe breastplate and the other body ornaments in all the pockets of his blue jacket as if they were treasures and he said, distractedly, "Yes he is," wondering how he was going to announce the death of her son to Helena Gordon. Was the old woman going to bear the shock? And how would she react after he told her that Artemus was buried among rocks in the Comanche reservation? Maybe she would want to bring his body back to civilization for a memorial service and then for a proper funeral to say a final goodbye to him? Or maybe she'd let him rest here and come here to see his tomb?

Then he thought of all the times he and Artemus had saved each other from seemingly certain death… "Not this time," he said, a tremor in his voice.

He rose to his feet and seeing worry reflected in Silver Cloud's dark eyes he added, his throat tight, "I'll be fine. It'll take me a while to adjust but I'll be fine."

He left the tepee, followed by Silver Cloud, joining Major Barrett standing next to their horses. "I'm not going to accompany you to Washington, Major," he told the USSS officer. I'm going to head back to Mexico. My life is in Tecate with my family."

Barrett frowned in worry. "But you'll be in danger there Sir. The US Secret Service won't be able to protect you there."

Patting Mo'éhno'ha Ȯhtameōhtsėstse's neck Jim replied, "I know. But no one will be able to stop Vautrain from killing me, nobody, not even the best agents of the Secret Service."

Barrett, shoulders slumped looked defeated. Then his dull eyes suddenly lit with a brilliant idea. "And if you can go back in time to stop him before he kills Mr. Gordon and neutralize Vautrain?"

Intrigued, Jim asked, "It's a good idea… Do the Secret Service has a time machine?" Then he snapped his fingers twice. "Loveless's time machine!"

Barrett nodded. "Yes, exactly. Dr. Loveless's time machine is stored in the secure warehouse of the Secret Service Headquarters among the other machines he created. And Dr. Loveless is still in a cell – and I'm sure he'd be very happy to start it for you against a remission of sentence. Let's do this before Vautrain can get him out of prison."

Jim smiled. "It's an excellent idea, Major. In that case I'm coming with you to Washington." Then he turned toward Silver Cloud. "I would like to thank you Silver Cloud for taking care of Artie when he was alive, and after his death, thank you very much."

Silver Cloud hugged Jim and said, "Take care of yourself, James. You will always be welcome here among the Comanche."

The two men parted and Jim mounted Artemus's horse. He leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Artie will be back soon."

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_Secret Service headquarters, Washington D.C._

_Secret warehouse_

Dr. Loveless framed between two agents of the Secret Service pressed on a series of buttons and pulled up a couple of levers.

Immediately the big 'time travel machine' started to emit a series of metallic noises and the bulbs began to shine brighter and brighter as the machine was powering up.

Richmond, impatient, asked, "When will it be ready to operate?"

Loveless ignored the question focused on the last settings to be made on the time convector, then checked if the energy level accumulated in the batteries was at its maximum.

Looking at the head of the USSS he finally replied, "It's ready now. I just have to set the date and time and location on the control panel.

Moving toward the circular platform attached to the time travel machine, Jim said, "Four days ago, on Monday, at sunset, let's say 1900 hours, a few miles south of the Wichita Mountains."

Loveless nodded. "Thank you, Mr. West," and then using these last parameters, he configured the time convector.

Glancing at the big black cables connecting the machine to the platform onto which he was standing Jim asked a bit warily, "Am I going to be electrocuted?"

Loveless grinned. "Just a bit. It's an electrical machine Mr. West, it has to be expected, but I considerably improved the use of electricity in my machines in order to avoid this problem." He placed his hand on a red lever and then said, "I will bring you back in eight hours, that should be enough to save Mr. Gordon." He paused and added, "The machine is designed for a one person only round trip, meaning that you will have to leave Mr. Gordon behind."

Jim nodded. "It's not a problem. Artemus will want to stay there." He took a deep breath and said, "You can proceed."

Loveless pulled down the red lever.

.

Feeling electricity running through his whole body, Jim gasped more in surprise than in pain and his body dissolved in a bright white light.

He materialized one second later in the middle of a vast plain, at sunset. Disoriented, he stumbled on shaky legs and then dropped to his knees in the thick grass.

His waited for the world to stop spinning around him and then he stood, a bit nauseous. He turned around on himself to see if he could spot his best friend on his horse pulling a travois.

He saw a dark silhouette that stood out on the orange horizon line. A horse, a man and a travois. He smiled broadly. "Artie!" but his smile vanished on his lips. His ex-partner was several miles away. "Too bad Loveless couldn't transport me here on my horse," he said, and he started running.

He was within earshot when he shouted, "Artie! Artie!" and watched the other man halt his horse and perched on his saddle, looking around him.

Eyes wide open in stupefaction, Strong Bear recognized Jim West running at top speed in his direction. "Jim?" he let out. He frowned, confused. "How is it possible?"

He urged Mo to turn to the left and the painted horse trotted to meet the other man.

Out of breath, face pinched in pain as a side stitch was stabbing his side, Jim stopped running and he waited for his old friend to join him, his smile growing as the other man approached him.

After a few minutes Artemus finally reached his best friend and slid off his pinto horse. "Jim! What a surprise! Fancy meeting you here! But what are you doing here?" He glanced around him not seeing Jim's horse on the plain. "With no horse. Did he die somewhere?"

A broad smile lit Jim's face. "Artie! you're alive!" He exclaimed his heart pounding with joy in his chest. "I'm so happy to see you!"

His brow furrowed, intrigued, Artie said, "Yes, I'm alive…" Then his frown deepened when he felt Jim's hand flat against his buckskin shirt, and held it there.

Beaming, Jim said, "I can feel your heartbeat… you're alive!" Then he drew Artemus close with an arm around his waist and another around his shoulders and held on as tightly as he could against him. "I'm so happy you're not dead!" He rasped, feeling tears pricking his eyes.

In response Artie threw his arms around him in a friendly embrace. "And I'm happy not to be dead," he said with a smile.

Jim broke off the hug first and then explained, "I came here with no horse. I traveled back in time to save you. I used Dr. Loveless's time travel machine to be here and neutralize Vautrain before he kills you, Artie."

Even more confused, Artemus asked, "What? Vautrain? He's gonna kill me?" He paused as he realized... "He killed me?"

Sitting on a rounded rock to catch his breath, Jim nodded. "Vautrain escaped from prison by severing his hand just above the wrist, to get rid of Mintee's bracelet. He traveled to the future to get a new hand and then, he killed you for revenge for being sent to prison."

Taking the (buffalo) waterskin he carried on his horse, Artie asked, "What happened to me?" And then he joined his best friend on the small boulder.

Jim sighed. "He shot you in your heart. And you died instantly." He grabbed the rawhide waterskin and moaned in pleasure feeling the cool water slide down his parched throat. "Thanks, Artie," he said, placing the water container on his lap. He continued, "Silver Cloud buried you the Comanche way… in a crevice between two boulders. I didn't attend the funeral ceremony and the burial, but I stood in front of your grave. I was… devastated." And picturing it in his mind, he held back a sob.

The older man nodded. "I imagine so." He sighed. "Silver Cloud did the right thing. I always thought I'd be buried where I would die, or not far from there. My mother would prefer that I be buried near my father, and she would prefer to leave before me... Fate alone will decide that." He placed both hands on Jim's arms in a warm friendly gesture. "And thank you very much for coming here to save me."

Shaking his head, Jim replied, "I didn't save you, yet."

Smiling, Artemus said, "It's only a matter of time. You will, Jim. And by neutralize Vautrain you mean kill him right?"

Jim nodded. "Yes. It's the only way to stop him. I'm going to have to be quick so he doesn't disappear as soon as he sees me."

WWW

_Later_

It was the middle of the night when Artemus faking sleep heard Mo's alarm neighs and propped himself up on his elbows.

He immediately looked up and saw Vautrain standing at his side. The ex-Confederate officer was pointing a gun at him, hammer cocked back, holding the revolver with a shiny full-metal hand.

He gritted his teeth, expecting Jim to show himself and fire at the other man any second by now. "Vautrain! You escaped!" He said.

Noel Bartley Vautrain nodded. "Yes, I did. Surprise!" He transferred his revolver to his left hand and flexed the fingers of his brand new metallic hand. "I could crush your neck with it… It's so powerful…" And he grabbed his gun in his prosthetic hand. "I had to cut off my hand to be able to get rid of Mintee's bracelet… The pain was absolutely atrocious, excruciating… but it was worth it, I'm free now. I chose to have a metallic hand that doesn't look like a real one to remind me that I had to use a knife to mutilate myself because of you and Mr. West… " He paused moved closer to the ex-agent of the Secret Service. Then, pursing his lips, anger flashing in his eyes, he added. "Because of you I lost my legs and my right hand!"

Artemus frowned beginning to be worried. What was Jim waiting for? 'Don't worry, old boy, he's waiting for the right time", he thought.

Ex-Colonel Vautrain said, "When you and your best friend are both dead - I will kill Mr. West after you're dead –I'll go back to the future and the doctors of that wonderful hospital in New New York City will give me a bionic hand that looks like a real one."

Swallowing hard, now very anxious, Artie reached toward his tomahawk sitting on the ground near him, but un a flash Vautrain kicked it away, laughing. "Jiiiim!" He called.

Leaping on the boulder like a mountain lion, Jim aimed his gun at Vautrain before he had time to pull the trigger and fired, twice.

But the bullets ricocheted off against Vautrain's personal force field, disappearing into the night… and Jim stiffened, disbelief in his eyes.

Grinning cruelly, the former Confederate officer, said, "Surprise!" And he opened fire, twice.

The shots sent Jim backwards, the bullets ripping through his ribs. He cried out in pain clutching his chest and he fell sideways.

The gun slipped out of his hand as he bonelessly slid off the boulder.

He landed on the ground with a thud and stayed immobile, his white shirt reddening with blood, blood pooling on the grass beside him.

Jim stared up at the night sky, his chest on fire and, his last thought was that he was going to die and everything went black.

Petrified with shock to see his best friend dead, Artemus lost precious seconds… and Vautrain use them to fire again.

He killed Artemus Gordon with a clean shot to the head.

Grinning like a maniac, Vautrain emptied the bullets from his revolver on Artemus's still body and replenished them one by one.

He moved toward Jim's body and pulled the trigger six more times.

WWW

_Reality_

Artie snapped awake, his breath coming in quick bursts and he was surprised to see myriads of stars shining in the night sky.

He immediately pulled down the bedroll covering him up to his shoulders and touched his chest where the bullet had hit him, breath becoming slightly ragged. He had been shot!

His heart was hammering in his chest, he looked down at his trembling hands expecting to see blood on his fingers, feel an excruciating pain…

But there was nothing. There was no blood and there was no pain.

He heaved a long sigh, an immense relief flooding through him. "It was a Nightmare…" He rasped, his voice, sleep rough, rubbing his face. Then he grinned happily at Jim. "Oh boy! what a nightmare!" He said. Then he realized that it was dark. Crickets' songs filled the light summer air accompanied by the crackling of a fire. "I had a long nap."

An owl hooted nearby.

He propped himself up on his elbows, noticed that his bedroll was covering his legs – with the exception of his injured ankle which was elevated on his folded saddle blanket - and looked at Jim who was sitting across from him on the other side of the small fire. "You didn't wake me."

Shaking his head, Jim said, "I didn't. You needed to rest." And then he grabbed a handful of branches from the small woodpile that had been collected for the campfire when his best friend was asleep and set them into the flames. "Do you want to tell me about your nightmare?"

Moving into a sitting position, Artemus groaned as a searing pain shot through his throbbing ankle. "You know I always find it strange to see me in my dreams, or nightmares walking, eating, drinking… etc, and interacting with you as if I was another person standing next to me, or next to you… or above me and you…" He cleared his throat. "Anyway. Long story short, Vautrain cut off his hand to get rid of Mintee's bracelet, he escaped, got a new hand in the future, came back here and he killed us."

Lit by the flickering glow from the fire, Jim nodded. "It won't happen. He is placed in solitary confinement and is guarded by two guards 24 hours a day. He's not allowed any sharp objects. He won't do that ever." He paused, seeing relief in Artie's chocolate eyes and asked, "How's your ankle?"

Leaning back against his saddle, Artie sighed, feeling the heat of the fire on the sole of his bare foot. "The painkillers helped to subdue the pain…" He rotated his ankle a little and winced. "Still throbs." Suddenly his stomach growled. "Is there still something to eat?"

Jim picked up a couple of sandwiches from the picnic basket and he threw them at Artie above the fire – the other man catching them.

Smiling, Artemus said, "Thanks", and he removed the paper from around the first one, revealing a tuna, tomato, mayonnaise sandwich.

He bit into it, releasing a moan of pleasure. "'Boy! M'gry," he mumbled, his mouth full. He wolfed down the two sandwiches within two minutes.

Pouring coffee into a mug, Jim said, "I won't offer you coffee, as I made it, but there's still some fruit salad in a container. Seeing Artie nod, he stood, took the basket and moved beside his best friend, sitting on the plaid blanket. He pulled the bedroll up to Artie's knees and observed the older man's bandaged ankle. It was still swollen but less than before. "The swelling has gone down a bit, you should be able to ride in the morning at this rate."

Reaching out, Artie lightly scratched at the tight elastic wrap around his ankle, "It itches, and it's going to be sore for a while." he said.

Jim nodded. "But it will be healed when you return to live with the Comanche." He pulled out the container of fruit salad and a little spoon. "Still hungry?"

WWW

_Inside the Wanderer, a few days after the trial_

It was the middle of the night when Jim, coming back from the toilets noticed a thin line of light under Artemus's door.

He knocked at it and heard, "Come in!"

Jim opened the door and discovered Artie sitting on the bed, wearing pajamas and his back against a pile of pillows.

His best friend was reading a book (one of the dozens he had bought in Washington and intended to bring to the Comanche reservation). "Can't sleep?" He asked, entering the compartment.

Lowering the book to his lap, Artemus said, "I can't sleep because I'm excited to go back with my band," he responded. He smiled. "And also I'm thrilled to know that Loveless and Vautrain will spend the rest of their lives in a federal penitentiary – well, in a lab there."

Jim nodded. "Hmm. They should have been hanged by the neck until dead, but the President commuted their sentence to life imprisonment. As they are brilliant scientists, geniuses, they will work for the US Department of Science and Technology." Sitting on the edge of the small bed, Jim added, "We should reach the south part of the Indian Territory tomorrow morning." He sighed feeling suddenly both sad and nostalgic. "I'm going to miss you, Artie. Working together during that mission was like going back to the good old times."

Feeling both sad and nostalgic too, Artemus said. "Yes, you're right. I loved working at your side again, Jim, and our mission was a success!"

Jim nodded. "Like always. We have never failed."

The older man rubbed his tired eyes then he said, "But the good old times are gone now. You and I have retired from the Secret Service and we have new lives we both enjoy. But we'll see each other again, I'm sure of it. But I hope it won't be for a new mission – I will refuse."

Jim smiled and stood. "Me too." His stomach suddenly growled. "Hmm. I'm hungry. I'm going to cook something…"

Looking up at his ex-partner, Artemus frowned and said, "And you are going burn down the galley while doing it! You have to bring back the Wanderer to Washington, intact, remember? It's on loan, she's not ours ... never was, even if we think of this train as 'home'." He left his bed and pushed Jim out of his compartment, in the narrow walkway. "Let me prepare you something. It would be safer."

Falsely outraged by the remark, Jim addressed his best friend with his best a mocking sour look. Then he headed toward the galley, Artie following him.

WWW

_The next morning_

Holding Mo'éhno'ha Ȯhtameōhtsėstse by his reins, using the ramp, Artemus led his painted horse out from the Wanderer's stable car.

He patted the gelding's neck and walked up to Jim standing on the side of the railroad.

He glanced at the vast grassy plain and then looked at Jim. "The Comanche reservation is a few miles away from here."

Jim nodded and looked up and down at his best friend who was dressed like a Comanche Indian. "I'm sure they can't wait to see you again."

His eyes wet with coming tears Artie sighed. "I hate goodbyes." Placing his hand on Jim's shoulder he said, "But it's not a 'goodbye forever' but a 'goodbye for now'… but it's hard anyway." He took his ex-partner in his arms and hugged him.

In response, Jim pressed Artemus against him. "I'm not one for goodbyes either," he said. After a few seconds he pulled away from the older man's embrace – noticing that Artemus was crying now – and he added, "Go on, buddy…they're waiting for you." He smiled, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. "It's time to go home, Artie."

Nodding, Artie took a step back. "If you need me, Jim, you know where to find me." He then held a hand out for his best friend to shake. "Say hello to Carmelita and give her a kiss for me. And kiss the babies' foreheads for me too, alright?"

Smiling Jim shook Artie's hand. "Yes, I will. I'll miss you."

Artemus grabbed the reins and then mounted his pinto horse. "I'll miss you too. Contact me when you have your ranch, Jim. I owe you two horses." He grinned, the tears drying on his tanned face and he added, "See ya, Jim. Take care of yourself. Until next time." He lifted a hand in a goodbye gesture.

Immobile, his heart heavy in his chest, Jim said, "Goodbye Artie. Take care of yourself, too, we'll see each other again."

Smiling, Artemus kicked Mo's sides and the horse galloped away.

Jim turned on his heel and climbed into the stable car.

It would all be okay, he thought.

The end


End file.
